The Pretender
by SleeperJack
Summary: Killed in a firefight, Richter Ransom finds himself reincarnated in the Mass Effect Universe three years after the First Contact War. With the Reaper War approaching, Richter struggles to define himself in his new life. Maybe reincarnation isn't what it is cracked up to be. (AU, OC oriented)
1. The Soldier

**Shahi-Kot Valley, Afghanistan, 24 December 2012 AD**

Bryan rubbed his hands together in another vain attempt to ward off the cold. Wisps of fog dissipated as he slowly exhaled. He pulled up his neckgaitor high. Scanning to the left and right, Bryan spotted the tell-tale green rings circling the eyes of his squad from the night-vision devices they all wore. Bryan looked out in the distance. Mountains extended around them a few kilometers in each direction, as if trying to isolate the godforsaken place. Sparse vegetation spotted the otherwise featureless protrusions of dirt and rocks. He pondered a moment and came to the conclusion that this was Earth's way of making a natural prison. His hate for this place grew as he thought about it more.

A few hours ago they got alerted by the company leadership. ISR feeds had tracked a team of Taliban insurgents in the valley. The Company Commander had spun up Bryan's platoon for the patrol. Overall, nothing out of the ordinary. It was highly likely the insurgents stopped at this cluster of derelict buildings, remnants of Soviet occupation decades ago.

The squad slowly crept up to the dull brown rocky outcropping that sat just short of a hundred meters from the objective. Holding up a fist, Bryan silently ordered his men into the assault position. Infrared lasers painted the entire building, a rotation of movement as the light went from window to door, high and low. The pure anticipation and excitement was palpable across the small group. On this deployment, they had done dozens of these types of raids and had grown confident as a team. Everyone was eager at another chance to hit the bastards. This particular group of insurgents killed a few of the local kids, children of a friendly tribal elder. After spending a year in the region, the local children had become something akin to surrogate sons and daughters.

"_Coyote 1-2, Coyote 1-6, 1st_ _squad in position, breach building four on the south wall."_ Called the platoon leader over the radio.

"_6, 2, acknowledge, moving now." _Bryan maneuvered his squad up, the soft crunch of their boots on the icy dirt just loud enough to be heard by the soldiers making the noise.

Bryan swiped his infrared laser against the door, signaling to his team leader to breach the door. Two shots from his team leader's shotgun broke the silence about as effectively as it broke the door in front of him. His squad swiftly assaulted through the building. Both teams following their rehearsed routes with a practiced proficiency. Shots from their M4s echoed like cacophony of lightning in the compound. Bryan trailed behind his teams, allowing them to clear the building without him getting in the way. Once all the firing had ceased, a moment had passed before he started hearing the reports.

"Room one and two clear, three enemy KIA." Yelled his alpha team leader.

"Room three clear, two enemy KIA." His bravo team leader followed up.

Bryan gave them both instructions to start searching the building and wounded. Content as they started moving with purpose, he reached for his mic to call up his report. As he keyed the mic, a loud explosion sent him flying, slamming him hard against the back wall. A searing pain flashed across the right side of his body. Temporarily blinded and deafened by the blast, Bryan could only stumble as he attempted to stand to face the new threat. He paused trying to assess the situation before he started moving again. The soft reverberations of rifle fire reassured him. At least some of his squad was engaging whoever started the counterattack.

Bryan tried to brace himself against the wall using his right arm. Sickening pain pulsated throughout his body as his arm folded in an unnatural way, sending him forward into the ground once again. He leaned back against the wall and tried his best to slow his breathing.

_My body is absolutely wrecked_. _How the hell did they get the jump on us. _Bryan's mind was thinking in circles, chances were he wasn't going to make it out of this one.

His vision from his one good eye, if you could call it that, was murky like looking through a window layered with condensation. The other was blistered shut from the blast. He looked around the room, he saw the shapes of two of his men, crumpled into a mess on the ground. The sight made him want to vomit and breakdown. He could feel the pit of his stomach sinking. The firefight had stopped now but none of his soldiers came into the room to check for casualties. Bryan couldn't fool himself, he knew that meant only one thing.

Steeling himself, he brought up his rifle with his intact arm and pointed it at the room's door, the effort was exhausting. He would get at least one of the insurgents who had just annihilated his entire squad. Quiet breathing was all he heard for several moments until some heavy foot steps and words spoken in some dialect of Pashto echoed from outside.

Tightening his grip causing his knuckles to turn white, he steadied his shaky hand. A man with his face covered in a balaclava walked inside, barely looking at the bodies at his feet. Bryan squeezed the triggered once, then twice, all his shots digging into the insurgent's chest. The masked man fell to the ground, clutching at his abdomen for a few moments and then went still.

Bryan listened to the panicked chatter from outside the building. One them stuck their AK47 into the doorway and blindly fired off an entire magazine. Rounds landed all around the room, with two burying into Bryan's leg and torso. His grip loosened on his rifle and it clacked on the ground. Another of the masked men strode into the room, staring at the American and the blood pooling under him. Bryan saw the barrel of a rifle raise up to his face. His jaw clenched in determination.

"Bastard." Bryan said with ragged breath.

The man stared at Bryan for a moment, he raised up the rifle to his cheek, aiming down the weapon's sights. Bryan maintained eye contact with his working eye, face tight from the rage he couldn't physically express.

_This is how I die, helpless against some worthless human being. All my men are dead. This never should have happened._

A single shot rang out, the soldier's lifeless body slumping into blood that pooled onto the dirt.

**Detroit, United North American States, 25 March 2160 CE**

The five year old sat on the carpet, staring at his tiny hands. Sometimes he would have strange thoughts or remember things he has never seen. He recognized strange objects, that felt both familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. He glanced around the room. The child saw a woman with dark hair and beautiful, soft features. That was his mother, he knew, but he also remembered another woman, a taller blonde woman, who was also his mother. The woman with dark hair was tapping away on a blue holo-pad.

His hands. Why were they so small? He was a grown man, why did he have such tiny hands. _You couldn't hold a rifle with these hands, _the boy thought to himself. _Rifle?_ _What the hell is a rifle?_ He was confused. Like soft gusts of wind in his head, thoughts would scratch the surface of his consciousness and disappear as quickly as they came.

He tried to think. Something wasn't right. He did not belong here. A sudden wave of pain and disorientation hit the small child. It felt like his skull was in a vice, the pressure was almost too much to bear. His eyes snapped shut, as if to keep them from popping out of their sockets. Images flashed through his head, his 21st birthday party, basic training, his girlfriend in high school. Unimportant memories and important ones in a constant flow, as if the floodgate in his mind was opened. It continued like this for several moments and then a particular memory came to mind. He clung onto it, holding it focused in his thoughts.

A patrol in Afghanistan. They were hit, ambushed by an enemy. He remembered death, his friends killed in the battle. He died too. He must have, he remembered the barrel pointing at his face as if it had happened hours ago. Nothing made sense. His pulse sounded like drums in his ears. He scanned the room he was in. It was not familiar. He looked over at the woman, in her hands a device he had seen only in science fiction games and movies.

"Where am I?" As the boy said it, a voice came out, it was unfamiliar and sounded extremely adolescent. It was not his voice he knew.

He heard a metallic clack as the flat holo-pad hit the ground. The woman's eyes were wide and it looked as if she were about to cry.

"Oh Sofia, now you are hearing things" She said quietly to herself. Her hands holding the sides of her head firmly.

"Who are you?" The child directed his question at the slightly frightened woman now.

The woman looked at him with her light brown eyes, a shocked expression across her face, as if she could not believe he was asking her a question. "Dios mío... Daniel! Rico is talking!" The woman said in an excited, almost hysterical tone.

"What was that honey?" Asked a light skinned man who walked in from a different room. He dressed in a familiar looking, but unusual suit. An even more familiar orange hologram projection covering his left forearm.

"Richter. Tell mommy again what you just asked!" The woman was close to him now, moving her arms to embrace him.

"Who are you two?" The child asked again before the woman could touch him.


	2. The Good Doctor

**Detroit, United North American States, 16 April 2161 CE**

"Hey there stranger," Richter said to his reflection in a low whisper.

The boy stared at himself in the mirror. He could just barely peak over the bathroom counter top to get a good look at himself. A young boy with Anglo-Hispanic features and bright greenish-brown eyes stared back at him. It was a face he was starting to recognize at his own. On top of his head grew a light brown mess of hair, he would need to comb that, suddenly remembering why he was in the bathroom. He mindlessly grabbed a comb and started running it through his hair. Honestly, he didn't mind his new appearance, even though he thought it was strange at first. His hair was a few shades lighter than his skin, which wasn't too uncommon he had learned. He was adjusting to his new appearance the best he could. In his previous life, he had been Caucasian but that didn't matter anymore.

"Rico!" The familiar voice called to him from the living room.

"Yes, I'm almost done!" Richter called out in response.

He put on his best kid impression he could manage. It had been only a year since he started fully realizing who he was and who he is now. He had overheard in a few isolated conversations that he didn't cry or talk much as an infant and toddler. Both of his parents grew very concerned for the first five years of Richter's childhood. Words like savant and autistic were thrown around in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with him. They had sunk a small fortune into gene therapy during his mother's pregnancy precisely to avoid any genetic disorders. Most of their concerns had ceased since Richter regained his self awareness, though it didn't prevent the dozen hospital visits in the past year.

_I deserve an Emmy for my performance. _A sarcastic smile crept onto his face as he moved toward his twin-sized bed. The room was rather large and lacked colorful decorations you would expect for a young child. Some artwork hung on the walls and the furniture all had matching shades of blue and gray. Aside from the bed and short set of drawers, the only other set of furniture was a desk with a chair that sat against the wall. On top the desk was an integrated terminal with access to the intranet. His father Daniel had used it once or twice, but he had not taught Richter how to operate the device. Incidentally, Richter was certain he could decipher it easily enough.

He slipped his arms through a small, long sleeved jacket with a high collar that was resting on the bed moments ago. Uncomfortably formal would be the best way to describe how he felt about the popular clothing. Richter knew the reason why this jacket was worn rather often, but it didn't make him any more happy about it.

Richter discovered months ago he reincarnated in a much different world than he left. Aside from being able to remember his past life, the first big hints were the technologically unfamiliar holo-pads around the house and the regular passing of air cars outside his windows. It wasn't until he heard his parents talk about the Citadel Council and all the new species of alien that humanity came in contact with that he finally made the connection.

There was only one unlikely, but reasonable explanation, he somehow reincarnated into the game Mass Effect. Strangely, he was born before the events of the game, but he didn't want to dwell with that thought too long. He recalled some of the codex and had a pretty good working knowledge of the universe as a whole. All he needed to do now was absorb the detailed information and gain a functional understanding of the world around him. By looking at the dates, Richter gathered that the First Contact War followed faithfully to the timeline. It was safe to assume that key events will occur in a likewise fashion.

The prospect of reliable prophetic knowledge at his disposal was certainly appealing, but in about two decades the Reapers will begin their attack on Citadel space. Shepard and his team will eventually win, but Earth still gets invaded by the Reapers, augmented with their army of husks. _Training, equipment and knowledge will come in time. I will not get killed a second time,_ the boy thought while he tugged on his cuffs. With over twenty years to prepare, Richter decided not to sweat it too much, at least not until he was older. One man can't change the course of the universe, but at the very least he would be able to survive. After checking his reflection for a final time, he turned smartly on his heels and exited the room.

Shafts of natural light flowed into the rather extravagant living room. On the couch sat a beautiful Hispanic woman in her late twenties tapping away on a holo-pad. Probably checking the schedule for the shuttle they would take to the hospital. Sofía turned her head as soon as she heard him enter the room. She gave him a sweet smile, an action he had come to appreciate greatly. As far as mothers went, Sofía was excellent. Kind, not overbearing and always willing to spend time talking with him.

"There's my handsome little man," Sofía said while readjusting Richter's pseudo-mandarin collar. "The shuttle is on its way, lets go."

Just as they stepped outside of their apartment building's lobby, a gray shuttle landed, blue jets of flame kicking up a gust as it did. Richter stepped into the shuttle followed by Sofía. He felt the shuttle start to take off, his gut wrenched. The sudden change in g-force was jarring. Apparently newer models were outfitted with devices that generated mass effect fields and canceled any sudden changes to the g-force, but this was an older model.

He leaned over and looked at Sofía's holo-pad. News stories with headlines like _Asari Delegate Meets Systems Alliance Officials At Arcturus Station_ and _Council Agrees to Allow Military Tech Exchange_ littered the page. It had only been four years since the conclusion of the First Contact War and already huge amounts of new technology was flooding into human hands. Even his father often wore an omni-tool at home.

"You want me to read you these words, Rico?" He looked up to see Sofía looking at him with a soft smile. She must have saw him staring at the glowing blue screen in her hands.

"Geez mom, you know I've been learning to read!" Richter said as bashfully as he could manage.

"Ho~ then why don't you give it a try?" Sofía turned the screen towards her son.

_Guess I'll ham this up enough. I know I'd struggle with this if I were actually six._

"A-Asari delegate meets systems ally-anse offi-offi-"

"Officials."

"I know!" Richter said adding in a slight tone of embarrassment. "Officials at arc-tor-us station."

"It's pronounced Arcturus, but you did really well! Those are some tough words," Sofía ruffled his previously combed hair, a wide smile on his face reacting to the praise he received. Richter felt guilty acting like this. His parents deserved to raise a child, rather than inheriting an anomaly like him.

Sofía continued to scroll through various news stories, eventually pausing as she reached a particular story titled _Kassa Fabrication Tech Trade Agreement Reached with Asari Armali Council_. The picture for the news article showed a human male and two Asari, the party smiling at the camera. Interest piqued, Richter looked closer and saw the human was actually Daniel.

"Dad is in the news? Wow!" Richter exclaimed, actually surprised to see his father in the news.

"Daniel is the Director of the Research and Development Department at Kassa Fabrication," she explained as her focus maintained on the article. "He works with the Asari and Salarians managing research agreements and proprietary technologies."

"He sounds really important, no wonder he is so busy," Richter replied, trying to remember if he ever heard anything like this before. He had guessed that Daniel was management of some kind, but never considered he would be in a position of interplanetary responsibility.

Richter would be a liar if he said he didn't feel like the luckiest guy in the galaxy. _People would kill for an opportunity like this. Reincarnated to wealthy parents in the Mass Effect universe. Lets not forget that Sofía and Daniel spared no expense on my 'manufacturing'. _He thought briefly on all the things that could have gone wrong. He could have been reborn as a Batarian or an Elcor. He might have been a female of some species too. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility he could have just been born to some spacers and end up captured by slavers. _Couldn't be luckier even if I won the lottery twice._

The young boy kicked his feet back and forth, legs not quite long enough to touch the floor.

"Nervous about the seeing the doctor?" Sofía interpreting his demeanor as nervousness.

"No. But we've visited him a lot already, do we have to keep going?" First Richter thought it was just because of Sofía and Daniel's concerns with his mental health, but he was starting to have doubts. The appointments still occurred regularly and the treatments seemed to get more elaborate.

"Rico..." Sofía went quiet and pulled her son tight into her side.

Richter felt awkward but he didn't say anything. He just sat there silently until the shuttle touched down at the hospital.

* * *

The stench of antiseptic overwhelmed the young patient. Richter was sure his nostrils would burn if the smell had been any more potent. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, a posse of doctors and their nursing staff descended on the pair, swapping Richter's clothes to a sterilized gown and barraging Sofía with questions regarding a wide variety of topics: What had Richter eaten in the past month, has he complained about any pain, any difficulty speaking? He couldn't listen to all the queries of the frenzied professionals. After a few rounds of injections, nurses herded the boy out of sight through a set of double doors labeled _Diagnostic Imaging. _

The imposing machine sat in the center of the room, terminals and displays sat in standby mode hungrily waiting to be fed data.

"You remember what you need to do?" The escorting nurse asked the boy.

"Yep," Richter replied honestly. He was familiar with the Goliath machine. Particularly the unusual dull pain he felt after every session in the horizontally-oriented encapsulated device.

"Do your best not to move and we'll try to complete the scan as quickly as we can," the masked nurse said as Richter reclined into the tube. Electrode-like contacts were pasted to his neck and spine, causing slight discomfort as he laid supine. The nurse closed the pod's door locking it shut and moved over to the terminal.

The machine vibrated with a low hum, conducting various diagnostic tests before a click indicated it was ready to begin its true task. A sharp hiss could be heard from above his head, an influx of some sort of aerosol wafting into the chamber. The smell reminded him of a mix of ozone and mandarins, it was tolerable enough where he wouldn't cough while breathing in the gas.

Lights flashed as they moved from his head to his feet, to his head again, continuously moving for a period that felt like hours.

The Goliath entered a low hum once again and eventually the pod door clicked open. Relief passed like waves over his body as the fresh air hit his lungs.

"You did great, now Dr. Chen would like to talk to you," the nurse grasped his forearm and helped steady the lethargic child.

The floor felt ice cold, draining the heat from his body through his bare feet. His fingers gently massaged the soreness that radiated at the base of his neck. With his mind still foggy, Richter shuffled down the hall to the doctor's office.

The boy paused at the door to the office, he heard familiar voices echo from the room. Edging forward on his wobbly feet, Richter peaked around the corner of the door frame. A mid-thirties Asian man was chatting away animatedly with Sofía, who sat opposite of the doctor's desk.

"- consider alternative treatments for Rico," An imploring voice came from the woman, her hands rubbing themselves nervously.

"Ms. Ransom, I know his condition better than any licensed practitioner on this side of the system," Dr. Chen said reassuringly.

"I've read the intranet postings of the other _incident_ mothers," Sofía eyes were glued to her lap. "A few of the children have birth defects, others are in comas... some have died." Tears started forming in her eyes. "I just don't want to lose Rico."

"Everything will be fine, Ms. Ransom. The best course of action is to let us continue the treatments," Dr. Chen replied a little too eagerly.

"Dr. Chen, I'm going to get a second opinion. There are doctors who are handling similar cases to Rico's and I want to see what they recommend," Sofía said with a tone that suggested she wouldn't budge on the matter.

Richter slowly withdrew from opening, his mind focused and alert now. _Incident? No one has ever spoken about this topic before. _He couldn't nail down the possible context. Was it a bad batch of genetically altered children? Maybe a disease or sickness exposed to some children?

Before he could lean in and listen further, a nurse started walking in his direction. _Damn, I'll just search it on the intranet tonight. _Richter stepped through the doorway into the office, smile plastered on his face.

"Hey Rico! Ms. Arnolds told me how brave you were during the scan," Dr. Chen said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Very impressive."

"Yeah, I'm the bravest!" Richter gave his characteristic enthusiastic reply as he went to sit on the stool next to Sofía.

The doctor chuckled and reached into his lab coat pocket, brandishing a two-pronged device. The soft glow of its blue interface reflected off the white material of his coat.

Dr. Chen spun the stool around, sending Richter into a one-eighty degree turn with his back facing towards the doctor.

"The sensors will feel cold, but try not to move away." Richter felt the back of his hospital gown come loose as Dr. Chen undid the cloth ties. A moment later he felt the icy touch of the prongs on the base of his neck, wincing in pain as it pressed again the still throbbing area.

Dr. Chen ran the device down the boy's spinal column, pausing at certain vertebrae as the device gathered data. Satisfied with the results, he pocketed the device and spun Richter back around, so he faced both of the adults again.

"Looks like you're in good health, as always." Dr. Chen smiled again and exchanged a glance with Sofía, searching her features for a reaction to the good news. Unfortunately for the doctor, Sofía was not reciprocating.

"You can get back into your clothes Rico," Dr. Chen told the boy. Richter proceeded to throw on his outfit, distracted from the revelation he heard just minutes earlier. After readjusting his high collar, he turned around making eye contact with Sofía.

As if taking the cue from her son, "Thank you for everything doctor, I will call you to schedule another appointment if Daniel and I decide that's what we want to do." Sofía turned around, grabbing Richter's hand, and headed for the hallway.

"I highly encourage you to reconsider. But I understand, I hope you call us again soon so we can continue the treatment," Dr. Chen appealed a final time as they started walking.

* * *

The pair left his office, the nurse escorting them to the entrance listing off things Richter shouldn't do for the next forty-eight hours following his treatment. Dr. Chen watched them leave, a subtle unfaltering grin holding until they were out of sight.

Robert Chen's smile disappeared immediately, replaced with a scowl. He brought up his terminal and typed in the net-code to access the secure off-site server. Waiting for the server to verify his log-in information, Chen rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair.

Within the past five years the project had faced many setbacks, the initial yield was far below the forecasted projections. The viable subjects for the project grew smaller every year. His neck would be on the guillotine if he couldn't produce results. Small fortunes were lost in exchange for the proof of concept they were achieving here.

The project has the potential to level the playing field between humanity and the aliens.

A soft ping sounded, drawing Chen from his thoughts and alerting the doctor of his timed limited access. He starting inputting the data quickly. Protocol was to erase any data within twenty-four hours of retrieval.

By some miracle, the idiot child who stood on the periphery of his research was now one of his best samples. The data Chen compiled suggested it would be a four or five more years before the subject was ready for phase two of the project.

All he had to do was ensure the subject stayed under his care until then. This was for the advancement of the species. And you don't advance the species without making a few necessary sacrifices.

Chen finish submitting the data and opened up a small encrypted free-text window.

_**RC6310014**_

_Priority: Immediate action requested_

_Subject RR7713_

_Continued inclusion in the project desired._

_Require immediate action: Covert/Gradual_

_Specifications: Incapacitate short term, long term is consequential_

_Attachments: bmetric, SR0681_

The window closed, notifying him that the message was sent.

_Yes, sacrifices are necessary, _Chen thought to himself. _This is just the first step, soon humanity will ascend past these aliens. All because of the work I am doing here. _Soon his selflessness would pay off. Satisfied with what he accomplished today, Dr. Chen turned off his terminal and left his office. He would need to treat himself to something special tonight.

* * *

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading through the first chapter of The Pretender. The chapter contained more introspection than I guess most people would like, but remember that Richter is concealing his true nature. Not a whole lot of action in this chapter and the pace is pretty slow but I promise the pace will increase within the next few. Please review if you'd like, this story is in its infancy and I'm still developing my writing style, so all feedback is welcome._


	3. The Assassin

**Houston, United North American States, 24 June 2161 CE**

Crowds of people weaved between the countless rows of stalls in the colossal indoor stadium. The Houston Tech Expo was a huge international event, attracting investors and consumers interested in emergent technologies. The Expo showcased everything from prototype weapons to element zero drive cores. Representatives from various Earth countries were stopping at the various stalls.

It was just another factor that worked out in his favor, no one would bat an eye at the well-dressed Indian man walking through the mobs of people. His unquestionably large figure, covered in a fashionable but nonseasonal brown overcoat, stood at just under two meters. Protecting his completely shaved head was an equally stylish brimmed hat.

This was the strangest contract that Bharat Patel had ever accepted. Normally, he wouldn't consider taking on such a risky job. It was a ludicrously public event, cameras snapped photos and recorded video in every space around him.

Weeks earlier, Patel was approached by his fixer about an unusual client. The job came in two parts: Sabotage the announcement of a new dextro-amino based medigel and poison a target with a colorless contact based nerve agent. The former was something he specialized in whereas the latter was new territory for the assassin. Naturally, the challenge wasn't something he would let get in his way. The payout was a cool one-fifty, in two installments of seventy-five. The first payment comes with the acceptance of the contract, second delivered upon completion. Those kind of credits were worth the risk.

Patel cautiously gripped the small tearable package. It wasn't larger than his thumb nail. He was assured by his fixer that as long as the nerve agent maintained contact for longer than five seconds, it would get the job done, even if it target didn't have an immediate, visible response. The chemical would go inert after prolonged exposure to the air and lose any identifiable qualities it may have once had.

Casually, Patel maintained his stroll. His eyes, hidden behind a dark pair of sunglasses, never left the target in front of him. If his target walked off into the crowd, it was likely he wouldn't be able to find her again. She would be lost among the sea of faces and chances are he would have to resort to a more aggressive course of action..

He brought his hands together in a smooth movement across his waist, entering a command into a now obsolete digital vambrace at his forearm. Stone-age tech compared to an omni-tool, he thought to himself, but it got the job done. After the command registered, information cascaded down the miniature holo-display on the inside of his sunglasses. The assassin tracked the target, who traveled with her son and husband, from their flight into Houston. His eyes darted across the trio's dossiers that scrolled down the lenses.

His eyes focused on the first tab, expanding the file. Even though he memorized all the information, he scanned the file an additional time. Sorted in a typical order, basic data points like full name, maiden name and age continued into more in-depth entries like gross income and commute routes. Attachments were listed to the side on the screen, crowning the list was an article about a frigate explosion she was involved in seven years ago. The sum amount of data collected would be considered excessive by others in his profession, but any information could be useful during a mission.

"Excuse me ma'am," he said in a flawless English accent to the elderly woman who stumbled her way into him, his eyes never moving from his target.

He switched to the next tab, Daniel Ransom. He had this dossier for two reasons, his relation to his first target and because he was the planned spokesperson for the dextro-amino based medigel announcement, his second objective. Supposedly, the relationship was pure coincidence, but Patel didn't believe in coincidence. The assassin assumed that the two objectives were interrelated as an attempt at corporate sabotage, but the poisoning of the woman didn't sit right with him. She was an air traffic controller at the Detroit spaceport, not a corporate executive. She would die regardless, but the devil was in the details.

Patel tore himself from his thoughts and refocused back onto his holo-display. He read through the entries for Daniel Ransom. Age thirty-three, young considering his position at a bleeding edge tech company. Definitely a fast-tracker. Multiple news articles featuring the man were attached. He was a bit of a rising star, working with the aliens as soon as the Alliance opened up diplomatic talks with the alien Council following the First Contact War.

Patel grimaced as the unconscious feeling of disgust permeated his core. He wasn't much of a patriot, but he still had his morality. Aliens had killed a few people he knew who serviced in the Alliance, some close enough that he would consider them his friends. As far as Patel was concerned, cooperating with the aliens crossed the line.

Opening up the last tab, the assassin only briefly looked it over. The file was considerably shorter than the last two. It was for their son, Richter Ransom.

_What kind of parent names their child Richter_, Patel thought while he read over the few data points he had on the child. Entries of some regular doctor appointments, where he was enrolled for primary school and other impertinent information. The client only gave one restriction regarding the boy, and that was to ensure he wasn't killed during the duration of the mission. Not an impossible or difficult task by any stretch of the imagination.

Patel squinted his eyes slightly noticing the trio had stopped. The woman was talking to the man about something and started walking in a different direction. A wry smile escaped to his lips. Time to earn his paycheck.

* * *

Sofía grasped tightly onto her son's hand. Her husband was doing the same on the opposite side, causing the boy to skip more than walk as they pulled him higher between each other.

It was a beautiful day. The summer heat was relatively mild today and a consistent light breeze was more than refreshing. She couldn't be happier. It was the first trip they had taken as a family due to Rico's medical needs and Daniel's hectic work schedule.

"And this is a Generation II Jacobs Energy Relay device. It allows energy transfer wirelessly using mass effect fields." Daniel explained to Richter as they stopped in front of another stall.

"Which kind of fields?" Her son asked while his attention was glued to the slim pylon device.

"Both, it increases and decreases depending on the stage of transfer," Daniel responded instantly, not even slightly surprised his young son was asking technical questions.

"Okay," was the only response coming from the boy.

Sofía could only smile. The Rico holding her hand now was a far cry from the Rico from over two years ago. Her son used to be almost catatonic at times, his reactions to her or the environment just barely registering behind his dull eyes. It was like night and day. He was still an odd child, though she loved him all the same. It slightly concerned her that sometimes he acted his age but other times she couldn't know. She never caught him in the act, but she was sure that her son would access the intranet when she wasn't paying close attention to him. She didn't like thinking about it and just attributed any strange actions to her son's impressive knowledge acquisition, a trait he got from his father, she was sure. Rico probably just learned how to use it by watching her anyway.

The trio starting moving after satisfying their curiosity at the previous stall. They had a few more displays left before reaching their final destination, the Kassa Fabrication block, where Daniel would need to get ready for his presentation.

"Phenomenal, this is the latest human-designed faster-than-light drive core," her husband excitedly stated. Both Daniel and Rico both had the same starry eyed look about them.

_Like father like son. _She quietly chuckled.

"Look at these diagrams up here," Daniel pointed to the holographic displays floating around the exhibit. "Element zero is exposed to an electrical current, which generates the ME field necessary to accelerate to FTL speeds."

"What's this coming out of the engine?" Richter stood on his toes, finger pointing to a series of lines leading out of the drive core.

"Dampeners to control static electricity build up," Daniel's expression darkened slightly as he spoke the words. "When we developed the first prototype drives, we didn't fully comprehend the amount of static electrical build up in the cores. It caused a lot of critical failures in our first starships."

"Critical failures?" Richter had to ask.

"Crashes, explosions and many lives lost. But we're learning more everyday, humanity has had a decade to accomplish what the Asari had mastered while we were still figuring out how to work iron into tools." Daniel paused briefly, running his hand through his short cut brown hair. "We get to piggyback off their technology and add it to our designs. The Council has more advanced technology than we do, but the gap is shortening rapidly. Our company is already developing new applications for devices that the other species have not even considered."

Sofía stared at Daniel as he spoke. Her neck and ears pounded, the same familiar palpitations that pulsed every time the topic came up in conversation. She remembered the incident vividly. The Detroit Spaceport had been exceptionally busy that day. She skipped her lunch break to help manage the high amounts of space traffic. Alliance and private vessels alike were mobilizing to go research the anomalous object discovered at the edge of the system.

Streams of shuttles streaked towards the spaceport like hundreds of meteorites, touching down to pick up personnel, equipment and supplies. A near-uncontrollable deluge, suppressed and managed by virtual intelligences and a legion of human controllers. Not long after touching down, shuttles and the occasional frigate, would begin their ascent to return to whichever Lagrange point they used as a staging area.

Thinking about it made Sofía's stomach churn. Everything was operating normally until an Alliance frigate, the SSV Somme, called her tower during its planet-side descent.

"Tower, this is the SSV Somme, we received the arrival data but we're experiencing numerous equipment failures. Requesting clear air for a manual landing," the ship's communications officer not-so-calmly requested over the port's arrival frequency.

"Somme, your route will be cleared in two minutes," Sofía called back while her hands frantically punched in a series of commands into her terminal. She looked over shoulder and commanded, "Tell the fire crew and recovery teams to standby!" before turning back to assess the data on her screen. A few beats passed, the frigate wasn't slowing and some of the tower's readings were abnormal, picking up on excessive energy propagating in the Somme's core room.

"Tower, we've lost contr-" the frequency keyed a few times, trying to reestablish its connection, "-an't slow our descent," the officer warned before communications cut for the last time.

Sofía slammed her hand hard into the emergency alarm panel, kicking off a series of loud alarms.

"Get down!" was all she could say her coworkers.

The blast violently shook the entire structure. The windows in her operations room shattered, sending razor sharp shards into her face, chest and arms. Her feet left the ground, the concussion throwing her across the room. A hole opened up in the center of the roof as the structural integrity of the building started to fail. Large steel beams and burning material groaned and cascaded into the room. Debris fell on top of the woman, shielding her from the flames that were hungrily consuming the room.

It was a miracle Sofía wasn't crushed, the others had not been so lucky. She drifted in and out of consciousness for several hours before rescue teams found her. The first thing she saw in the hospital when she awoke was Daniel's panicked face.

It had been seven years and she felt like she had moved on but she knew that wasn't true.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Hearing her son stirred Sofía from her thoughts.

"Yeah, I was thinking about getting us something to eat before Dad's presentation," Sofía told her son, not completely lying.

"Great idea, I could use something eat before I go on stage," Daniel pantomimed his hunger, rubbing his hand on his belly. Richter made an unreadable expression looking away from his father.

Sofía stuck her tongue out at her son. She knew Rico was probably feeling embarrassed because his father was acting like a dork.

"You two continue on without me. I'll meet you at the stage," she bent forward and planted a quick kiss on her son's cheek.

"Ha ha, now you're making me jealous," Daniel said while grinning broadly.

Sofía leaned toward Daniel, pausing before their lips made contact, then leaning left to give her husband a kiss on the cheek as well.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said before turning towards the direction of the food court.

* * *

Patel walked offset of his first target, Sofía Ransom, trailing beside her by fifteen meters. After about ten minutes of walking through the crowds, his considerable patience was rapidly waning. Seeing her pause for a moment to look at all the food stalls, Patel scanned the crowd briefly and set himself on course with the oblivious woman. His gloved right hand dug into his jacket pocket and gripped the small plastic package. He increased his speed, his long strides carrying him quickly towards his intended destination.

Moments before his hulking body collided with the woman, he rubbed his index finger and thumb together causing the packet's contents to spread over his glove. The petite woman bounced solidly off his abdomen causing her to unceremoniously fall to the ground.

"Ow," Sofía breathed as she checked the abrasions on her hands and forearms that took most of the impact from the fall.

"I apologize miss, I wasn't paying attention," Patel said as he bent forward, offering his right hand to his victim.

Sofía hesitated for a moment and then took his hand. Patel hoisted the woman to her feet. Once Sofía steadied herself, she withdrew her hand sharply from Patel's. Her actions made the assassin want to cut her throat and be done with it, but he was a self proclaimed gentleman assassin. Patel smiled plainly.

_Not enough contact time for the agent. _Patel silently assessed.

"It's okay, but try to be careful. A man of your size might just run over a small child," Sofía said as she patted down her sundress in an attempt to remove the dirt marks.

Patel reached out to her arm. "Miss, it looks like you have some cuts. I used to be a medic in the Alliance, let me take a look at that."

"Oh, it's fine. I'll wash the cuts and bandage them once I get back to my husband," Sofía reassured the stranger. "I've experienced worse cuts before."

"I insist. I feel absolutely terrible already," Patel grasped her forearm firmly.

Sofía frowned at the man and withdrew her arm again, stepping away from Patel.

"I said it's fine," She turned away, "have a wonderful day," she said before walking away.

_That should suffice, _Patel thought as he briefly stared at her walking back the direction they came. It would have been less effort to just choke her to death, slash her throat or shoot her in the head, but his reputation was something he refused to be stained just because a target was making things difficult.

With his opposite hand, the assassin carefully removed the glove covered in the unknown agent. He check his arm ensuring none touched his skin and placed the glove in a lined jacket pocket he prepared prior to the mission.

With that, he melted back into the crowds of people. Incidentally, his next destination was the same as the woman's.

After another few minutes of walking, Patel arrived at the planned location. He was about fifty meters away from the stage where the medi-gel announcement would be made. Tapping a few commands into his vambrace computer, his display lit up, highlighting the few wireless cameras posted throughout the area. He marked their locations and scanned the crowd for any private security personnel. He located the two assigned to the area. Both looked uninterested in the crowds and seemed enthralled in conversation with each other. The entire assessment took only seconds.

Making a mental map of the camera coverage, Patel smoothly weaved his way through the dead space. He stopped at three different locations at the periphery of the spacious audience area, subtly placing small round discs onto walls of various stalls. Each device carried a programmable small, guided anti-personnel mine. A modified version of a weapon used in brush fire conflicts from over half a century ago that had fallen into disuse now. The assassin selected these due to the ease of camouflaging the devices and the lack of necessity of him being in the immediate vicinity to activate them. On the outside, it would appear to be nothing more than a small inactive wall light.

Pleased with the final placement of the mines, Patel made his way to a bench occupied by some other attendees and took a seat. He pulled out a small holo-pad and checked the time. It would be two hours before the event started, so he decided to make himself comfortable.

* * *

Richter watched his mother walk away from the pair. His mind was mulling over the past few minutes. During Daniel's explanation on drive-core discharge, both of their demeanors changed abruptly. As much as he didn't like secrets being kept from him, Richter understood there could be a number of reasons why they wouldn't tell their six year old child something. Even knowing that, he still couldn't help but be a little bothered by their behavior.

Suddenly, Richter felt two hands lift up under his armpits. Daniel placed the boy on his shoulders and started moving to the next exhibit.

"Hmm, M-8 Avenger series rifle," Daniel hesitated for a moment, "Well, no harm in teaching you about weapons." Richter guessed his father might be debating whether or not to teach his young son about the rifle, which was honestly the topic he was most interested in learning.

"The Avenger contains a mass accelerator that reduces the mass and fires a minuscule metal projectile. Speed provides the kinetic energy required for the round to do considerable damage on impact," Daniel continued his explanation, going into the mathematics behind the physics, but Richter couldn't keep up.

His father wasn't much older than Richter was in his previous life, but the gap in intelligence and maturity was staggering. Daniel could think circles around him, then and now, he was sure. His father could be kind of awkward at times, evident by his display when Sofía offered to go get food, but it was a typical gesture he made. When it came to Daniel's work, he made a complete transformation into an aggressive, well spoken executive. Even though Richter's mental age was around the same as Daniel's, he couldn't help but look up to him.

"-Heat is dispersed through the fins as a secondary action during the loading and firing sequence," Daniel stopped and touched a button on the display panel, causing the Avenger's cross-section holo-display to go into an animation. At an easy to watch speed, the animation went through all the sequences of operation.

Daniel made a gesture with his left hand, powering his omnitool.

"Looks like we're out of time kiddo, we have to go meet some important guests," Daniel said repeating the gesture to turn the device off.

"From your company?" Richter asked, it was the first time he heard about any guests.

"Not quite, they're a little more important than employees from Kassa Fabrication," his father gave a small laugh, "it'll be a bit of a surprise for you."

Richter enjoyed the vantage of being on Daniel's shoulders while they navigated the Expo's maze-like organization. Colorful crowds could be seen filling up every available space. Since his rebirth, Richter had not seen so many people. He heard several vaguely familiar languages being spoken. It was an amazing sight, he had to admit. A Mandarin speaking man was having a lively conversation with a woman speaking Italian, both parties apparently understanding every word.

_Guess being multilingual doesn't mean very much when you can just get a translation program_, Richter thought, a little disappointed that he didn't have any of the necessary tech to listen to the conversations.

Finally, they arrived at the Kassa Fabrication block, the unmistakable _KF_ logo decorating various furniture, walls and floors in the area. The building itself was unremarkable. Gray prefabricated walls linked together creating an impromptu holding area for company employees attending the Expo.

Daniel walked up to one of the security doors, placing his hand on a flat, black pad placed to the side of the door handle. A metallic clunk could be heard as the door unlocked itself, automatically sliding open for the two. Daniel kneeled and placed Richter on the ground.

Richter followed his father around a corner into the lounge area. His father wasn't joking when he said the guests he was meeting would be a surprise to him. On the couches sat an asari and two turians.

The asari was the first to stand to greet Daniel. Richter had seen pictures of asari on the intranet before, but seeing one in real life was completely different. She was stunning, she wore a black and gold dress that left no room for the imagination, giving off a definite level of sex appeal, but at the same time it didn't seem to be inappropriate for the event. On her face was an elaborate white emblem that followed the gentle curve of her brow down to her cheek bones. Her eyes like amber gems seemed to draw you into them.

She reached her hand out, receiving a handshake from Daniel, while saying something that Richter couldn't understand. She sounded almost like she was singing. A melodic wave that softly hit his ears.

As if reading his son's mind, Daniel glanced down at his stunned child and reached into his pocket pulling out two tiny silver discs. He leaned over and placed the tiny ear buds in both of Richter's ears. The speakers inside his ear buds immediately started transmitting audio feedback.

"Falle, this is my son Richter. Son, this is Falle Duvas, she works for the Citadel Council as a diplomatic liaison," Daniel explained while gently pushing him forward to greet her.

"Hello Ms. Duvas," Richter said as his eyes darted downward when she made eye contact with him. He didn't want to make his father look bad by being rude, but his mind was not prepared.

The asari made a gesture towards Richter, as if beckoning him toward her. An abrupt feeling similar to vertigo hit Richter as he felt himself lurch backwards. He twisted to catch himself only to find the air around him distorting with a purplish light.

"Ooh biotics," Richter quietly murmured after he overcame his shock. Weightlessness caused his stomach to clench hard. He floated roughly four feet above the ground for a few moments before his local gravity shifted and he felt himself _falling_ towards the asari.

"By the goddess! He is even cuter than you led me to believe," Falle exclaimed, catching Richter in her arms, hugging him tightly.

Richter looked toward his father for help, trapped in the asari's slender but surprisingly strong arms. No rescue was coming, Daniel was already engaged in conversation with the two turians.

"Kalor, Daetrus," his father addressed the turians and made a gesture towards him, "my son Richter."

"Nice to meet you," Richter managed to say despite his current predicament. "Ms. Duvas, can you set me down please?" he requested in a practiced appealing tone.

"_Embrace eternity_ little Ransom," Falle firmly denied the child. Richter felt her smooth skin and soft chest slide on the side of his face, making him for the first time extremely regretful that he wasn't an adult already.

_Time to accept my fate_, he thought and ceased his struggling.

Richter's savior came in the form of a flanging, gravely voice from across the room. "Commando, you should set the poor child down. We do not need you creating an interspecies incident after we came all this way," Daetrus, the shorter of the two turians, told Falle.

"You would not make it past customs in any case. C-SEC policy states no unauthorized biological material," Kalor added in, "that includes human children."

Wrenching his head left, Richter got a closer look at the two. On Kalor's dark brown face was painted two vertical gold lines, stretching from his crest down to his mandibles bisecting both of his dark blue eyes. Kalor wore a black and blue military uniform with what looked like rank on his elevated collar.

Lacking the symmetry seen on Kalor, white colony markings etched Daetrus' dark gray face from the top left of his head starting at his forehead's crest, down to the bottom right reaching his mandible. Its arrangement almost haphazard in design. Instead of a military uniform, he wore a light grey suit with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

"Falle, normally I would make an exception, but he is the only child I have and I don't think Sofía would be very happy if I gave him away as a souvenir," Daniel joked. His tone was so convincing that a stranger might have taken what he said at face value.

"Keep your eyes on him or I might smuggle him all the way back to Thessia," Falle suggested, giving Richter another hug before setting his feet on the ground.

A confusing feeling of relief and disappointment flooded Richter's mind. He would need to be more careful around Falle or just asari in general, he decided.

Daniel checked the time on his omnitool. "Alright, let's get down to business. Everything is as we planned except we will not be doing a live demonstration. People are already going to be stunned. It'll be their first time most of the audience will see a nonhuman in person. Last thing that we need to do is scare or incite people by spilling turian blood to demonstrate a product. Falle will cover the precautionary measures we will be taking," Daniel calmly explained.

"I requisitioned four personal shielding units. These models are compact and very discrete, meant for use by diplomats or critical military leaders during off-duty hours," the commando said while holding up one of the small black devices. "For the turians in the room, off-duty might be a new concept for you," an audible silence took over the room as her joke fell on deaf ears. She glanced over at the three faces, only to see a single sympathetic response coming from Daniel.

She shuffled her feet and lightly coughed.

"Moving on... it's not as strong as military grade gear, but it should stop any human-made non-eezo firearms and it'll buy you enough time to find cover for single or burst fire eezo powered weapons," Falle quickly finished, her face a seemingly darker shade of blue than it was before.

Richter felt like laughing at the very-human display of embarrassment but he controlled himself. His father moved over to talk to Falle about details that didn't sound too interesting so Richter decided to go investigate the turians.

Following the short brief, Kalor and Daetrus returned to a conversation they must have stopped when Daniel and himself had walked into the room. Richter moved closer and removed his ear buds.

After listening for a moment, Richter heard what sounded like an almost human, but still unintelligible language. The language itself sounded like multiple consonants compacted into words, interspersed with seemingly random clicks.

It was strangely refreshing and made the world feel very real. Not something you could consider as a game turned into reality. Thinking about how this previously fictional species from a fictional universe somehow had tangible languages and biology made his head spin.

While still feeling slightly exhilarated, he placed his ear buds back in and moved closer to the turians.

"I think the child wants to talk with us," Daetrus said as Richter drew near.

"Ha, that is better than the usual reaction we get! At least we are not being glared at or accused of genocide," Kalor responded to his partner.

"Must be genetic, Daniel was the same way when he first met us," Daetrus said \while squatting down in a failed attempt to be eye level with the boy, "Richter Ransom, do not fear. I am not biotic like that one." The turian pointed his large talon towards Falle.

"Fair enough. Are you two also diplomats?" Richter asked after finally getting an opportunity to speak.

"The Hierarchy would be in a tough situation if they decided to use us as diplomats," Kalor laughed before Daetrus got the chance to answer.

"I am a researcher for the Hierarchy military," Daetrus replied not acknowledging what the other turian said. "Do you know about the Hierarchy?"

"I've read about it, yes," Richter answered not wanting a long explanation on what he already knew.

"How old are you?" Daetrus inquired, not expecting that answer from the child.

"Six."

"They teach human children about the Hierarchy that young?" Kalor rhetorically asked Daetrus, "I am impressed."

Apparently curious about the conversation Richter was having, Falle and Daniel walked up behind him.

"Not all human children, my son is just a fast learner," Daniel told the turians as he placed his hands on Richter's shoulders.

"Sofía reads the news feeds with him often, so he has quite the knowledge base," his father boasted.

"Oh my, it's not going to be long before little Richter is smarter than you, Daniel," Falle giggled before lunging toward Richter and picking him up again.

Richter's reflexes weren't fast enough to evade the attack.

"I don't doubt it. Lucky for him that he got all his mother's good looks and intelligence instead of taking after me," Daniel said, unperturbed that his son was captured by the commando once again.

Richter did not enjoy all the self-inflicted attention he was getting. He remained silent as the asari ran her hand through his hair repeatedly, messing up his previously well-groomed brown hair.

The security door opening announced the arrival of Sofía, who looked worse for wear than she did prior to leaving her family.

"Sofía, what happened to you dear?" Falle asked setting down Richter and rushing over to inspect the abrasions on her arms. Daniel was only a step behind her.

"Took a bit of a spill, I'm afraid," Sofía said allowing Daniel and Falle to look over her arms and hands.

In a swift and practiced maneuver, Falle produced a cylindrical tube with yellow markings on the side and started applying a clear gel to both of her arms.

"Are you alright?" Daniel asked as his brow furrowed, obviously concerned.

"I'm okay, it's nothing Daniel," Sofía replied not wanting him to worry right before his big announcement.

"These should heal up quickly," Falle told the woman, "I was hoping to keep this a secret until later, but I brought you a gift from this great shop where I buy my clothes on the Citadel and since your dress is dirty, now would be the perfect time to try it on!"

Falle grabbed Sofía's hand and started pulling her away towards another part of the building. Richter felt that even his mother must have a hard time dealing with the asari's personality.

After changing clothes and getting cleaned up, the two women returned to the lounge. Richter quietly watched the group chat for over an hour in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid further breaches of personal space by the primary criminal. Finally, the time came for Sofía and himself to move out to their seats in the front row of the stage while the others did their final preparations.

Richter took his seat and looked behind him. It would be an understatement to call the gathering behind them a crowd. It was more aptly called a mob. There weren't enough seats for the entire audience, so standees filled every open gap possible.

_I might have underestimated the importance of this event,_ Richter thought before turning back around in his seat. To his right, his mother sat in a dress similar to what Falle was wearing. If Sofía was embarrassed, she was not showing it. Needless to say, many heads were turning her direction.

Over the speaker system, a warning announced that the event would soon be starting.

"Introducing Kassa Fabrication's Director of R&amp;D and company Spokesperson, Daniel Ransom," came a disembodied voice out of the many speakers around the area.

Multiple floating holo-displays and overhead lights activated simultaneously. The low rumble of a rolling applause reverberated through the ad hoc auditorium. The low rumble became a roar as Daniel walked out onto the stage. A floating camera silently tracked Daniel as he moved around the stage. With two slightly raised hands, Daniel quieted the crowd.

"Kassa Fabrication welcomes you to the twenty-one sixty-one Houston Technology Exhibition!" his father said, his voice booming across the audience.

Daniel gestured his right hand toward the hallway leading up to the stage. Curious faces followed his direction.

"It is my pleasure to introduce our special guests who have traveled far to be here with us today," the taller turian walked onto the stage on cue, "Hierarchy Commander of the 78th Medical Science Division, General Kalor Victus." Murmurs and gasps could be heard echoing through the audience as the turian commander walked across the stage. Audible taps echoed into the audience as Kalor's boots loudly struck the stage floor.

"And Deputy of Operations at Citadel Engineering, Chief Warrant Officer Daetrus Lakt," Daniel said with a disarming smile while Daetrus joined his partner on stage.

"Today we're announcing Kassa Fabrication's newest and most ambitious innovation in the medical industry-" Daniel started to say before pausing. His dark brown eyes traced upwards, squinting sharply at something floating through the air.

Richter followed his father's line of sight, his head tilting backwards to briefly catch sight of two black frisbees flying fast towards the stage.

Lunging toward the two turians, Daniel shoved their two large forms simultaneously. Daetrus and Kalor awkwardly stumbled away in the direction of the stage entrance. Both discs made contact with the stage near Daniel's feet. Their flat bottoms latching completely to the floor with a click.

Immediately, both devices detonated. Micro-explosions blew outward near Daniel's feet. His shielding unit flared up, generating a visible deeply hued bluish holographic kinetic shield, before finally succumbing to the blast. The explosion's energy launched his large body off the ground before gravity regained its control of him, sending him into a short slide on the stage floor.

Debris shot outwards, lightly peppering the turians' kinetic shields as they stumbled toward the back of the stage only to get intercepted by Falle. The commando was already moving into action to evacuate her charges. Purplish distortions in the air manifested as she gestured her arms to erect a biotic barrier, separating her party from the crowd of panicking humans.

Powerful concussive blasts knocked Richter and the first rows of people backwards out of their chairs. Richter rolled to his side and coughed hard. His lungs burned as if he had swallowed fire. A muffled cacophony of screams rang out breaking his disorientation. Richter, still dazed by the blast, tore the broken earbuds from his ears. The devices were the only thing that saved his eardrums from being damaged by the concussion.

With some effort, Richter got himself onto his hands and knees. The audience was scrambling towards the exits out of the back. He wanted nothing to do with the chaos he saw. His mother was laying next to him, making no movements. After leaning over and putting his ear over her mouth, he confirmed that she was still breathing. Scanning across her body, he saw no bleeding and breathed slightly in relief.

Like the dust in the air, Richter's mind also started clearing. This situation was all too familiar. It wasn't the first explosion he was ever in. Sofia would be fine, but Daniel's safety was still uncertain. With his mind set on his next task, Richter staggered to his feet. His tiny body took some damage and fought him as he stepped towards the stage. A growl escaped his lips as he used both hands to pull himself over the stage's ledge.

Richter's chest tightened as he processed the scene with his eyes. Where Daniel's legs used to be were ragged stumps of shredded flesh and bone. Pools of dark red gathered around his body. He hurried to where his father laid, slamming both of his knees on the stumps. He hoped the pressure would prevent the femoral arteries from pouring out more of his father's blood.

_It might not be too late,_ Richter was thinking to himself. _I can't let him bleed out._ _If I can get him to the hospital, this science-fiction world can probably keep him alive._

Maintaining pressure with his knees, Richter undid his belt and tightened it around the first legless stump as a makeshift tourniquet. Adrenaline coursed through his body, causing him to breath rapidly. Richter worked as fast as he could. As his hands reached to undo his father's belt for a second tourniquet, he heard a familiar voice shouting at him. Even without a translation device, Richter knew what she was trying to say. He dived down to cover Daniel's unmoving body, but a force caught him, sending him flying backwards. Helplessly, he watched as the distance grew between him and his father.

* * *

Falle watched restlessly as the air car accelerated away from the emergency pick-up location towards the Citadel embassy. Out of necessity, she had left Daniel out on the stage, but leaving him there weighed heavily on her heart. During the attack, she had to prioritize the Hierarchy and Citadel diplomats. Her mission as a commando was complete now that the turians' safety was secured, she turned and raced back towards the stage.

"Please be alive," Falle whispered to herself. She wanted to hope, but she was no rookie. A few minutes had already passed and the image of Daniel's mangled body flying through the air was burned into her mind. No, he was likely already dead, however Sofia and her son could still be alive. With a new found resolve, her pace quickened to a sprint.

After reaching the stage, Falle slowed herself into a stop. She looked towards where Daniel's body landed minutes earlier, expecting to find his corpse there. What she saw shocked her even more. Richter was on top on Daniel's lifeless form, grieving she first thought. She realized she was wrong, completely wrong. The small human boy was moving quickly in an attempt to provide medical care to his father.

She stepped towards Richter to grab him in an embrace and comfort him, but something inside her froze her feet in place. She turned her head and looked back towards the sky. Another one of the accursed discs was flying quickly towards the center of the stage.

"Richter, no!" Falle yelled, mostly out of desperation, as it was too late for her to intercept the disc.

Out of pure instinct, the commando spooled an enormous amount of biotic energy. She felt her military grade bio-amp whine as the accumulation of energy started causing her neural feedback circuits to overload. The space around her distorted, wrapping her body in a purple flame-like cloak. She thrusted both hands out, one towards the child and another towards the black disc. Her delicate blue fingers worked fast to trigger the release of energy.

In a singular instance, Falle focused on three different actions. First, she pulled Richter towards her to get him away from the stage. Once Richter was halfway between herself and Daniel's corpse, she erected a large biotic barrier between them and the explosive disc. Concurrent to the last two actions, she pushed the black device upwards with enough force to hopefully destroy the trigger mechanism. The seasoned commando strained to maintain her biotic output, not wanting to crush Richter as she pulled him to her. In combat scenarios she could manage two simultaneous biotic actions, but she never tested three before now. She'd congratulate herself if the situation wasn't so serious.

Falle caught Richter in her left arm, maintaining the barrier to intercept any remaining mines. She cursed under her breath, regretting not smuggling a side-arm into the event. One of the conditions the Alliance negotiated with the Citadel was she was not allowed to carry any weapons and only use biotics defensively. The nature of the attack was unknown, but she studied human culture enough to understand the purpose.

"Are you hurt?" Falle asked the clearly distraught child in her arms.

Richter stared at her a moment before pointing towards his ears. The boy got on his feet and looked at her as several emotions moved like waves across his face.

"You need to help Daniel before it's too late," his eyes focused on hers as tears started streaming down his face. He grabbed her left hand gently. "Please."

* * *

A/N: I started writing this project back in 2014. Unfortunately, my laptop and all my files for The Pretender were destroyed in a container fire on its way across the Atlantic. I salvaged some of my draft materials which amounts to mostly outlines and story flow, and decided to continue the story while I work on my masters degree. 2 years is too long to justify as a hiatus, so I can't make any excuses there. I'll do my best to work on this as often as I can between course work, but I am still pretty novice (read: slow) when it comes to writing.

I'm sure this kind of story is cliche, so apologies if it's a little too similar to other works. I wish I had the time to read all the good stories posted here. Please feel free to critique so I can improve the story as I go.


	4. The Resolve

**New Delhi, Greater Asian Alliance, 02 July 2161 CE**

Bharat Patel stepped out of his air car, grabbing his briefcase as he went. After a month of travel, he wanted a short break to enjoy a well-earned vacation. His fixer received the assassin's second payment after his employers verified he accomplished both objectives. Stepping into the large entrance floor, Patel headed toward the resident elevators and let the machine scan his biometrics. The light lazily flashed green, allowing him to select the thirty-fourth floor as his destination. After arriving at his door, the assassin scanned his biometrics simultaneously unlocking his studio and deactivating the internal defense systems.

The apartment smelled slightly musty from lack of air circulation. His nose crinkled and a frown crossed his face. Patel hung both his coat and hat on the rack next to his door. Something caused him to pause. Had someone been in his apartment? Unlikely... not without him knowing about it. He scanned with his eyes, assessing the position of every item, looking at the opacity of his variable window blinds, and for any signs of intrusion. Nothing was out of place but Patel knew from experience that his instincts should be trusted.

Patel unholstered his pistol and crept forward, clearing his way through the familiar apartment. His steady feet, muffled by the carpet, kept his movement imperceptibly quiet as he moved low out of his entryway. He turned the first corner and felt a presence behind him. On pure instinct, the assassin twisted his torso and sent his fist flying directly to the throat of the intruder. The assailant fell backward with a thump, collapsing onto the carpeted floor. As if on cue, three more silhouettes stepped into his line of sight, pistols aimed at his face and chest. Deducing that he would have already been shot if that was their purpose, he lowered his pistol but kept a firm grip on it. Despite taking out the first man rather easily, he knew that these four were no novices. Gaining entry to his studio without activating the defenses and bypassing the biometric security locks was not a task your run-of-the-mill burglar could accomplish.

"Well, I think that's enough of that," one man said, the leader of this team probably, stepping towards the taller assassin. All four wore finely tailored black and silver suits, something you would expect for a government official to be wearing, not a covert ops team.

"I'm glad our reports weren't wrong. Your reputation seems to be well-earned. You dealt with Nevada," the leader gestured his pistol towards the fallen man, "before I got a chance to introduce myself." His accented American-English seemed to be rural. That kind of accent was now only seen in old movies and period-oriented holo-vids. Patel knew he would never like this man.

"I apologize for my haste," he stated flatly, "however, your man is fortunate I did not put three rounds into his skull."

"No," the agent said while dragging out the vowel to an annoying degree, "I don't think you could have." He smiled, which annoyed Patel even further. "My name is Colorado and I'm here to offer you a unique career opportunity. The organization I work for is extremely impressed with your performance on your last job. They selected you for the Houston job as a sort of test and now they want to offer you long term employment."

"I prefer to remain freelance," Patel declined, his eyes searching the men in an attempt to figure out what organization would hire this caricature as an agent.

"Think of us as a sort of human-first research and development foundation," Colorado explained, seemingly ignoring what the assassin just said, "and the pay is nothing to scoff at."

"I understand, give me some time to think this offer over," Patel negotiated.

Colorado grin expanded, "No, I don't think you understand, Bharat Patel. This offer isn't optional."

"Who do you think you are?" Patel spat.

"Oh? No one important. Just humanity's hell hounds," the leader winked.

Before the assassin could react, he felt the cool metal surface of an auto-injector at the base of his neck. The device pumped its contents directly into his nervous system causing Patel to spasm slightly before slumping unconsciously towards his apartment floor.

"Now we're even, you son of a bitch," Nevada's raspy voice said a little louder than a whisper, his hand rubbing his throat gingerly.

* * *

**Detroit, United North American States, 03 July 2161 CE**

Richter felt dazed as though a mental fog persisted within the valley of his conscious. Sitting in the front row near the center isle of the church, he couldn't tell how much time had passed. Numbness permeated from his core to his limbs. His eyes focused on nothing in particular but oriented to the casket that sat directly to his front. The church's sanctuary was filled to capacity as Daniel Ransom was an enormously well-liked individual. Numerous speakers took the podium to eulogize his father, but the most of the words never made it to his ears. Of the eulogies, he heard the same common themes-anecdotes about funny or uplifting moments they shared, how what Daniel accomplished would influence the future, and other similar praises.

Richter looked at the empty chair to his left. His mother was still hospitalized from the explosion and had not been discharged. No other family was present at the funeral service besides himself. He sat quietly, his empty eyes moving back towards the front.

The service ended and countless people walked up to him, each repeating similar consolations. The crowd of people thinned until there were only a handful of people left inside the room. One man with combed back, platinum blonde hair crouched down and grabbed his shoulders.

"Richter, this is our first time meeting. My name is William. I was a good friend of your father. I know it's tough now, but realize that your father left this world without regrets, no matter how selfish that may seem. He was a good man. Who I owe a lot too. I will make sure your mother and you are taken care of. If you ever need anything, please send me a message to my private terminal." The man slid a data-stick and a business card that read _William LaCroix – CEO Kassa Fabrication _into the boy's hand. He looked at Richter hard in the eyes before standing up and leaving.

Richter shook from his stupor and placed the data stick into his breast pocket. His head tilted up and he saw the two turians, Daetrus and Kalor, moving towards him. They both wore ceremonious-looking dark suits. Mourning clothes he figured.

"Everyday, humans never fail to surprise me," Kalor's mandibles reflexively twitched after he spoke. "Turians mourn in a similar way."

Richter saw the sympathy in the turian's dark blue eyes.

"I could have been in a casket back on Palaven," he paused and breathed in, "were it not for Daniel."

Richter's mind flashed to his father's final moments when he shoved both turians out of the blast zone. His small chest and hands started shaking visibly.

"You may not understand but your father has done more to improve relations between the hierarchy and alliance than any number of ambassadors. Selflessness is a highly respected turian quality and news of a human saving the two of us may well help pave the way to a future where our species will cooperate together on many things."

Putting his talons on the boy's head, he whispered, "Spirits guide him," before stepping towards the back of the church.

"I enjoyed your father's company more than I do the company of most turians," Daetrus's low flanging voice hesitated as he spoke, "I will make sure others know of his valor." The turian crouched low and rested his elbows on his knees.

"We're heading back to citadel space soon. The medigel your father helped manufacture will save many turian lives, but I need to persuade the council to allow us to start importing it to hierarchy medical facilities," Daetrus scratched his crest, "but I'm sure I will see you again young one. If you ever find yourself on the Citadel, ask C-SEC for Daetrus Lakt. They'll point you in the right direction."

By the time both turians left, the church was nearly empty. Richter stood up and made his way towards the casket. He grabbed one of the flowers placed to the side and tried stretching his arms high enough to place it on top, but his small size wouldn't allow it. Two delicate handed picked him up, allowing him to place the flower gently on top. He correctly guessed who it was, when he saw the slender blue fingers of an asari on his chest.

"I think it's time to head back, Richter," Falle's amber eyes were slightly swollen and the dried tears on her cheeks reflected the church's lighting.

"Yeah," Richter didn't move however, he kept looking at the casket, as if searching for an answer.

He felt the asari's arms wrap around him, embracing him tightly. His legs lost their strength and the emotion he held inside spilled out.

* * *

**Detroit, United North American States, 17 March 2166 CE**

"Commando, that was an order. You've been on that planet too long if you think it's proper to argue with your superior. Undisciplined. Just like the humans," the callous voice reprimanded. The source of the call wasn't from within this system, no holo-display was transmitted. Relying on the newly erected Sol System extranet comm buoy, the quality was also very poor.

"Acknowledged," Falle said with poorly concealed disdain.

"Good. The matriarch will want to talk with you when you arrive," her superior snarled.

Falle Duvas cut the comm link and vented her frustration towards the surface of the desk, slamming her fist down hard. Items positioned around her terminal shifted from the impact. _Now I've done it. _Exasperated,she dropped her head into both of her hands.

She had submitted her regular mid-cycle report to the council. Predictably, the response she received was a notification of reassignment. She requested another extension, one of several extensions she had requested over the past five years. However, this request was officially denied. Judging by the reprimand she received, Falle expected it would be a very poor reassignment.

Her principal duty was completed years ago, acting as a diplomatic liaison and security force for turian and salarian officials coming to Earth. Her excuses for the extensions were not necessarily unimportant. For her first extension she recommended that building a report on human political structures would help the council in future negotiations. The reasons for the following extensions were not much different. The council wanted to reassign her and put her back into the field.

Her superiors didn't understand. She needed to stay here, but they would never see it that way. Earth, humans, the woman and boy. To leave it all. To leave them. She wasn't ready for that. Humans felt so unique. Not monotonous like the hanar and elcor, nor requiring elaborate facial markings like the turians. Their shape, size, temperament, and personality varied so wondrously that she felt she would never get bored here.

Falle returned the picture frame of herself holding the hand of a small human child that shifted out of place. In it she wore a human designed wide brimmed summer hat and dress, while the boy wore a simple shirt and shorts. She smiled wide from the warmth of that memory.

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her fists tightly. It was too soon to be reassigned, but she couldn't refuse a direct order from the council. Glancing at the time, the asari walked briskly to her office door. Rico would be home from school soon and she didn't want to be late for one of her favorite daily routines.

* * *

Richter sat on his couch, flipping his wrist to expand the omni-tool's interface. The device was one of the few mementos from his father. The orange glow reflected off his white jacket faintly. He scrolled through some of the homework he was assigned before deciding he could finish it after dinner.

He leaned back into the soft cushions, trying to sink into them. The apartment was unnaturally quiet, which was normal considering he was the sole tenant for the past few years. Days repeated themselves in a formulaic fashion. He chuckled lightly. Richter forgot how boring being a child could be.

His life felt like it was on rails. School was a challenge, but something he could accomplish easily enough. The classes you're assigned are based off of individual proficiency, so one could accelerate or stagnate depending on their ability. It was explained to him that the human education system does this in an attempt to produce brilliant scientists and foster unusual talents that can compete with the galaxy's finest. For an eleven year old, he was well above the average grade for his age, though no where near the level of a genius or savant.

His eyes felt heavy and his mind edged towards sleep. His head was slowly tilted left and right until the distinct activation of the apartment door's automated opening mechanism stirred him from his near-slumber.

"Rico, are you home?" the familiar voice called out.

In response, Richter waved his arm above the edge of the couch, signaling the visitor. Walking towards him, the asari bent over the back of the couch and brought her face close.

"Did I interrupt your nap?" She said, a playful smile spread across her face as she started running her hands through his light brown hair.

"You did. Now stop that!" he squirmed out of her reach.

"Rico, Rico, Rico, you would deprive me of the one feeling that I desire the most?" Falle inquired, an unquestionably fake pout being directed towards him. Her fingers gestured menacingly.

That nickname used something only his mother would call him. Sometime ago, Falle adopted the convention as well.

"Yes I would! I'll lose my hair before I'm fifteen at this rate," Richter said, accustomed to the Falle's strange obsession with his hair. With a feminine whine of displeasure, she glided toward him and sat down close. Unconsciously, he smelled the distinct fragrance that seemed to be her favorite perfume. Maybe rather than perfume, all asari smelled nice by design. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised.

"Show me what you've been working on," Falle stopped her play and reassumed her mentoring role. Richter noted she took this role quite seriously.

The boy complied, opening the assignments on his omni-tool's display. Falle put on her glasses that functioned as a seamless auto-translator. Richter would make a joke about her playing the role of a lascivious tutor, but he didn't think she would understand the humor.

"Some difficult material today," Falle mused, "I'll leave the history work to you. Show me how you would solve this set of equations."

Richter started solving the equations. Getting most of them correct, Falle provided hints or restructured the equations that he found to be more difficult. She had grown into quite the instructor over the past few years, helping him understand challenging concepts with scenarios and vignettes from when she traveled the galaxy. He never asked her age directly, however he guessed her actual age to be at least three hundred. Even taking in his previous life, she had lived several times longer than he had. It would be a waste to refuse any instruction or experience she offered. Spending more time with her was just an added bonus.

"Times up, lets head to the hospital," Falle said after nearly an hour had passed. She tossed a jacket at Richter. Following their routine, he stepped behind her out of the apartment.

Arriving at the hospital room, Falle left Richter to go find the doctor. The boy moved towards the side of the bed. He sighed as he saw no change in his mother's condition. Sofía, who had been very sick for many years, had fallen into a coma two years ago due to an unknown form of cancer. Leaning forward, he brushed her soft brown hair off her face. Doctors could cure most forms of cancer, replace organs as needed, and provide prosthetics that performed better than the original limbs, but nothing they did could cure the illnes his mother had. Doctors suggested the cause could have originated from chemicals, toxins or radioactive material from a disaster she was involved in before he was born. Whatever biological irregularities stemmed from that had finally started attacking her system over half a decade later.

He hoped she couldn't feel the pain like this. When she was awake, she would conceal any signs of discomfort or pain, but Richter knew the symptoms were causing her significant distress. He gripped her unmoving but warm hand and started reciting his experiences from the day.

After several minutes, Falle walked into the room with an empathetic expression. Richter knew that the doctor must have repeated the same usual speech. There was no signs of recovery and all they could do is wait until a solution is discovered or an experimental trial is invented. A torrent of subdued rage fought its way, trying to breach the walls inside Richter. Science-fiction. The word disgusted him now. It couldn't save his father, expecting it to save his mother felt laughable. _Not as laughable as my own powerlessness._ Clenching his jaw, he calmed himself.

"Rico, it's not your fault, you know?" she assured him and dropped her hand on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what prompted her to say that. She probably could read his emotions better than he could.

"I hope they find a cure soon," he responded, truly wishing a cure was found.

Entering into the room was William LaCroix. The man acted as Richter's guardian since his mother went comatose. If the man hadn't become his guardian, Richter would have been put into an orphanage until his mother recovered. The older man looked surprised as he walked in, seeing the asari and boy also in the room.

"Pardon me, I was checking on Sofía's condition. Didn't mean to interrupt," William apologized before moving closer to the bed. A grim look passed his face.

"They would have alerted me if she had recovered, but I needed to check for myself," the usually confident man hesitated, "I wanted to ask her opinion about a matter concerning you."

"About what?" Richter's brow creased. William was usually straight forward and today he was being uncharacteristically evasive. Richter respected William, the man did his best to ensure that Rico and Sofía were provided with everything they needed. He didn't have children of his own and was still single despite being almost 40, but he tried to act like a role model for Richter whenever he wasn't busy with the ever-expanding corporation.

"Some colleagues from a rival company approached me, field operators from Conatix Industries. At first it was about a business proposal, but they asked about you," William let his hand follow his hair all the way to his neck, "do you know what a biotic is?"

Richter nodded, of course he knew, he was the victim of biotic attacks perpetrated by Falle almost daily.

"But do you know the prerequisites for biotic potential?" William asked not expecting an answer, "Conatix has a unique permission from the Alliance to search medical records relating to element-zero exposure. You were missed when they first searched this area. They weren't sure why, but when your mother's medical records were updated, it sent a flag to their system."

Richter understood what William was trying to explain. Sofía was involved in a frigate explosion that blew up the spaceport, scattering element-zero contaminated debris. Therefore, Richter would have been flagged with possibly exhibiting biotic potential. It was supposedly extremely rare in humans and most cases originated from spacers and colonists rather than Earth. Richter never felt anything unusual or moved objects with his mind, but he wasn't sure how it manifested.

"What do they want?" Richter questioned.

"Well, they want to conduct some tests and if the results show that you have biotic potential, they want to send you to a school to be trained to use it," William stated candidly, "Even I don't know much about biotics, but Conatix has built prototype amplifiers that work for humans." The man looked towards Falle to see if she was surprised to hear that information. If she was, she didn't let it show.

"Because the candidates are minors, Conatix requires a guardian's permission before they can start testing you. I don't feel like I should be making those decisions. Which is why I'm here. Since Sofía is not awake, I'll let you make the decision Richter."

"Who will look after my mother if I leave?" Richter knew that if he was biotic, it could be a useful tool to have in the future war. But he didn't want to be gone when Sofía regains her consciousness, he was all she had left.

"I'll make sure to check up on her as much as I can and I'll message you the moment she recovers. We're getting ahead of ourselves because you may not even have the mutation necessary," William tried to reassure the boy.

"Okay, I'll do it," Richter agreed and received the details on his terminal. He didn't know if this was the correct course he should take, but he couldn't rely on Falle and William for the rest of his life. Saying goodbye to his mother, Richter left with Falle who was abnormally quiet since William arrived.

Taking his seat in the air car, Richter became confused after half a minute passed by and they hadn't taken off yet. He glanced at Falle, who was looking his way.

"You don't have to do agree with him," the asari said timidly.

"I know," Richter agreed, "but if there's a chance I could be biotic, don't you think I should try it?"

"Humans don't know enough yet," Falle paused as if hesitant to pursue that thought, "I don't think you'd be happy where they would send you, Rico."

"Jump Zero?" Richter inquired.

"How do you-" she stammered with a slightly bewildered look in her eyes.

"Falle, I know you're concerned, but I'll be okay. I still need to be tested anyway," the boy tried assuage her best he could, "can we head home? I'm starving."

The air car lifted above the city skyline, bee-lining towards the Ransom apartment. The pair didn't speak, only the whir of the engine filled the silence. Richter leaned his head against the window, staring at the sun's tinted orb descending past the horizon's crest.

"They're reassigning me back to the Citadel," Falle said without looking, "I leave in two weeks."

Richter knew she would eventually leave, but he didn't think it'd happen so soon. Words caught in his throat as he tried to form a sentence. He had spent more time with her than he had with anyone else over the past five years. She may not have considered it, but to him, she was his family.

"It wont be the same without you," Richter finally managed to say.

"I'll only be an extranet email away. You didn't think you could escape from me that easily, did you Rico?" she said playfully, trying to improve both their moods.

"I knew it was too good to be true," Richter grinned as he saw her brow furrow, "just make sure to bring me some good souvenirs next time you come to Earth." He turned his head back towards the sun in an attempt to hide his true feelings.

"I'm sorry," Falle whispered breathlessly.

Richter heard something, but his translators didn't pick it up.

* * *

Conatix worked quickly once William sent back approval to allow the company to conduct the necessary examinations. Within a week, Conatix scientists ran a wide-range of tests on Richter, starting with his biotic potential to physical health and raw intelligence. Pleased with the results, the company was sending Richter on their next shuttle to their corporate spaceport. Standing at the shuttle platform, he placed the only two small bags of personal belongings he brought with him on the gray floor. No point in bringing clothes he would outgrow in a few short months, he reasoned. Two men in jumpsuits retrieved his bags and placed them into the shuttle's cargo compartment. Richter spotted one of his companions walking back from a group of people also wearing the Conatix jumpsuits.

"They're pretty tight-lipped. Couldn't even get them to tell me where the training facility was," William said with more concern than usual.

"I'll message you once I get there," Richter said knowing how concerned the man had grown over the period of the tests, "I'm sure they have their reasons for keeping the location a secret."

William didn't look convinced. "Yeah, well, I'll be in touch. Just in case however," the man leaned forward and grabbed Richter's wrist mounted with the omni-tool. Activating his own tool, William punched in a series of command so quickly that his hand seemed like a blur. "I've added some encryption programs that we use back in the company. Only a combination of your genetic signature and password will allow you to send messages from this device," he explained while releasing the boy's arm.

"Good luck and don't worry. I'll look after your mother until you return," William ruffled with the short mop of light brown hair on Richter's head.

Richter turned his head towards Falle. Her hands grasped a small package and envelope. The asari's beautiful face was twisted with a forlorn expression. Her lips pressed together tightly.

She pushed her hands forward, handing him the two gifts. He received them and shifted uncertainly from left to right.

"Tha-" he managed to say before Falle picked him up in a tight embrace. Her head rested against his, the warmth of her cheek transferring to his ear.

He wrapped his arms around the asari's surprisingly small back. Small. He never viewed her like that before, but at this moment she felt very small.

"Rico... I won't be able to come back to Earth for awhile," the soft vibrations of her voice tickled his ear.

"I'll be fine on my own," he said more to himself than anyone else.

After several moments, Falle separated herself from him. One of the men in jumpsuits called over, signaling to them that it was time for Richter board. He waved at the two as he stepped into the shuttles' wide doors.

Richter exhaled sharply. Yes, he would be fine on his own. He was sure of it.

* * *

_A/N: I didn't get the time to edit this chapter as much as I would have liked. However, I didn't want to sit on it for too long as I will not get a significant amount of free time next week. This concludes what I'll call the introductory arc. The pace was quicker but what can a kid really do but we swept up in events outside of his control.  
_


	5. The Experiment

**Typhon Outpost, Proteus, Athens System, 02 April 2166 CE**

"Wake up, Delta," a gruff voice called out.

Richter stirred, the blanket of sleep sliding off of him. He squeezed his eyes closed harder, his head throbbed.

"I said wake up!"

Two hands pushed him off the bed he apparently slept on, causing him to fall onto the hard tiled floor. The shock was sufficient at waking him up. The small framed boy unsteadily lifted himself to his hands and knees. Where was he? He wasn't sure. Richter didn't remember where he slept last night. Why was he wearing a hospital gown? His head hurt. His side hurt from the fall. It felt like he was starving. And for some reason, it felt like he was wearing weights on his hands and feet. Panic washed over him like a cold shower.

"Get up. You've slept enough," the voice commanded from the other side of the bed.

Richter propped his feet under him in an attempt to stand before collapsing back to the floor. Foot steps echoed off the tiles heading towards his direction. The source was a light skinned man wearing a black and grey uniform. He was well-built, perhaps like a boxer, which fit his shorter frame. His short cut black hair matched serious looking black eyes. Eyes that were glaring down at Richter.

"Delta, get on your feet," the man said, making no attempt to aid the boy.

There wasn't any mistake. For some reason or another, Richter was being addressed as Delta. His mind kept running, but he couldn't decipher that mystery. Seeing no possible answers, Richter obeyed. He put his two small feet under him again, this time bracing against the nearby counter. The entire movement drained him. Finally standing straight, the man delivered a heavy kick to Richter's abdomen. His body crashed against one of the room's the cabinets. With a sharp wheeze, his breath was stolen away from him.

"Good. Now do it again," ordered the man. His voice betrayed no emotion. Not cruel nor kind, just cold.

Richter repeated the movements, shallowly inhaling air as he tried to regain his breath. He straightened out and faced the man. His light brown eyes locked onto the man's black eyes. Several moments passed, but the man made no movements to knock him down again. With as much boldness as he could muster and despite the incredible amount of pain he was in, Richter didn't break his stare. The man silently assessed him before finally tossing a small bag at him.

"I'm Nevada. I'll be in charge of your training from here on, Delta. Change into those clothes," the man turned towards the doorway, "and no questions."

The automatic door whirred shut as Nevada left the small room. Richter opened the bag and saw a matching jumpsuit with black shoes. The black pants and a synthetic black long sleeve shirt were sized to him perfectly. On the shirt, a single white strip extended diagonally from one shoulder to the bottom corner.

Richter slid the hospital gown over his head. The fabric rubbed against his neck, causing him to flinch. He gingerly brushed his fingers across the sensitive area. The skin felt swollen and smooth. It felt like a fresh scar would. Inspecting his fingers, he realized his wrist was missing its omni-tool.

_Just what the hell happened to me?_ Richter thought as he dressed himself. The last thing he could remember was getting on the shuttle. Did he already make it to Gagarin Station? Even with his past knowledge, he didn't know enough details about biotic acclimation and training facility. If they treated all the biotic children this roughly, he couldn't imagine them being very successful. Did they give everyone nicknames? Too many questions floated in his head. Answers would come he figured before stepping through the door.

Nevada eyed Richter up and down before slightly nodding his head.

"Follow me," he said evenly.

_He's certainly concise, _he pondered. The man's attitude felt like similar to some officers he worked with in his past life.

The man led him down a series of hallways, the quick pace causing Richter to half-jog to keep up, before entering one of the doors marked "mess"on the outside. Several unoccupied tables and chairs were centered in the large room. The far wall was lined with food and drink dispensers. Striding to the dispensers, the man grabbed two trays and passed one to Richter. He followed along, mimicking the man's actions and put several containers of food on his tray. Taking his seat from across of him, Richter felt his hunger urge him to devour the meal in front of him.

"Eat. Your training begins today and you'll need the energy," Nevada said before he started eating as well. Richter dove into his plate and ate so quickly that he half choked the meal down. Washing down his food with the sweet tasting beverage, Richter leaned back and relaxed. With his hunger satiated and his headache was almost gone, he felt a little better.

"Delta... is that my position here?" Richter asked while the man was still eating.

"No questions. You are now Subject Delta. No one cares who you were before. You will not tell anyone your old name. This is who you are now," the man wiped his mouth and looked at Richter. "I have one piece of advice for you, kid. Listen to me and do exactly as your told, otherwise you will be discarded."

Several scientists disconnected the electrodes and sensors from Richter's chest. He couldn't understand what they were saying. Not because he didn't have an ear piece translating, but because they were talking almost exclusively with scientific jargon. His sub-dermal translators worked perfectly, the scientists' mouths not matching the audio output.

Richter slid on his shirt and waited while they spoke. Nevada leaned against a wall behind them. Finally, one of the female scientists moved towards him. She told him generally what he already guessed. They will be conducting tests to help him learn how to use his abilities.

"To activate the biotic nodules, you need to fire a series of neurons in your nervous system. Sort of like charging a car before you can start it," the scientist explained.

"Subject Delta, focus your attention toward that cube on the table. With your left hand, repeat these movements," she said while slowly gesturing with her left hand. "You should feel biotic energy build near your neck and spine."

Richter obeyed, repeating the gestures with his left hand. He couldn't feel anything that could be described as energy building. He made the gestures several more times, but nothing happened. The scientists were debating behind him. Was he just not biotic enough to manifest power? Several more minutes passed before the female scientist addressed him.

"Subject Delta, repeat these movements," she made a different set of gestures, "once you remember them, close your eyes and do it."

Richter followed the instructions and closed his eyes. He repeated the movements and began to feel something build inside him. It was hard to describe, but it felt like pressure wanting to expand from his body.

"Now focus that feeling toward your hand," instructed the feminine voice.

He didn't know how this was supposed to work, but he willed the energy towards his extended hand. The energy felt tethered to him and moved in accordance with his will.

"Open your eyes and focus on the table, release the energy towards the cube."

He opened his eyes and was slightly shocked from seeing a purplish distortion in the air emanating around his hand. It was small, unlike when Falle used her biotics, but it was there.

His eyes locked onto the table and he tried to release the energy at the table. Nothing happened. The distortion lingered around his hand. Unsure of what to try next, he made a fist with his hand. The purplish energy expanded momentarily before falling back into his hand, as if it were a black hole. His hand twisted and compressed in an unnatural way, causing a fire of agony to burn in his palm. Energy pulsed into his hand. The biotic forces tore through it like an implosive grenade. Overcome with pain, Richter's vision narrowed and he dropped to his knees holding his wrist.

* * *

Robert Chen read the report on his office's terminal. Richter Ransom, now Subject Delta, was the last test subject he needed before moving forward with phase two. All subjects were brought to the new facility within a span of several weeks. Subject Delta was the most difficult to extract, but his sponsors had the connections to manage it. Test subjects were put into an artificial comatose state for the duration of transportation and remained that way until he personally installed all the biotic amplifiers. Afterward, the subjects were assigned to the training teams. His roles were to supervise training progress, continue the development of the next generation biotic amplifier and direct the next phases of the experiment. His frown intensified as he continued reading the report his team sent.

Unexpectedly, during the initial foundational training, Delta managed to severely fracture his hand. The accident in itself wasn't complete failure because it demonstrated the necessary potential for further development. Out of his test subjects, only Beta, Epsilon, Gamma, and Delta express the necessary biotic capacity for combat usage. In the past month, they had to repurpose subjects Alpha, Theta and Sigma. While they couldn't be used in the combat training program, their bodies could still serve the experiment. Subjects Omega and Tau were dissected and preserved. Those two were unsalvageable due to the aggressive form of neuro-cancer that propagates with element zero exposure. Only two unrecoverable subjects was acceptable for the experiment's phase two parameters.

The testing and training can continue after Delta's hand recovers, he mused. The training methods they used were almost entirely derived from the Alliance sponsored BAaT facility. Conatix employed sub-par scientists, so mistakes like this were likely to occur until his team developed proper training techniques. One of the objectives of phase two was precisely for that reason.

All Conatix research and training data was maintained by regular data dumps from his sponsor. Chen only knew the origin of the information, but not the team responsible for the extraction. Even in this facility, only two people talked directly with the sponsor, though neither knew his actual identity.

With uncanny timing, he heard a knock on his door. Chen already guessed who it was.

"Enter," the doctor said while keying the door's speaker.

Colorado, effectively his equal in the organization, walked into the room. Chen was the scientist lead while Colorado was the operational program lead trainer. The man wore the same black jumpsuit as all team trainers wore at Typhon Outpost. Colorado set down a large bag from his shoulder.

"Went through the kid's belongings, he had a package from him" the tall man smirked and pulled out a photo from the bag. "We got us an alien lover."

He tossed the photo onto the desk like a frisbee. Chen inspected the photo. The photo was Subject Delta and the asari that escorted him everywhere back on Earth. The creature didn't interfere with the experiment whenever it came with Delta to the appointments back in Detroit, but he was careful not to let the alien observe any of the tests. He told the alien that it was human custom to not allow non-guardians into the consulting rooms. Doctor-patient confidentiality, he chuckled to himself.

"And?" Chen didn't see where this conversation was going.

"And? It's a liability. Report says he was in close contact with the alien for several years. He's still young sure, but what if the behavior conditioning doesn't pan out," Colorado jabbed a finger at Chen, "Then we got a kid who can crush folks with a thought that might go native on mission."

"Why do you think we installed micro-detonators with the amplifiers? That's your problem set, not mine," the doctor pushed the photo towards Colorado.

"Yeah, and who's gonna activate the detonator after me or one of my guys gets turned into human flesh putty, doctor?" Colorado balked. He deposited the photo into the bag.

"Who knows, maybe the organization can use his relationships to our advantage later. Don't dispose of it. Throw it into storage with the rest of his things," Chen said before motioning him toward the door.

Colorado was the first person Chen met that wasn't recruited in his personal team. The organization made a point to keep teams compartmentalized. In the past eight years, Chen could count the number of times he had encountered people outside his team in person. All information shared was exclusively need-to-know. He didn't know the scope of the organization's reach, but it was well-funded and organized with frightening efficiency.

Chen didn't buy into some of the claims the manifesto made, so maybe he wasn't a true believer. The organization allowed, or rather encouraged, his research. That alone was enough for him.

* * *

Richter flexed his left hand after the doctor removed the lightweight immobilizing gauntlet. The recovery time was only two weeks for an injury consisting of several broken bones and torn tendons. Unsurprised by the short recovery time, he guessed he had finally adapted to this world's version of common sense. The recovery time wasn't relaxing at all. While still injured, Nevada had dragged him into "combat training" for most of the day. Richter hesitated to call it actual training, when it was mostly physical conditioning and getting pummeled by the muscular man for hours. The bumps and bruises weren't all pointless. Nevada's instruction gave him some insight into why he was brought here.

Nevada demonstrated to him the importance of balance and endurance, due to this planet's slightly heavier gravity when compared to Earth's. Of course, he demonstrated this by delivering hard kicks to Richter's abdomen and legs. The information was useful. Richter had yet to see any windows or indications of whether they brought him to a space station, planet, or spaceship. It also explained the encompassing and oppressive weight that made even small movements laborious.

A few answers were insufficient in reducing the uncertainty he felt. When he boarded the shuttle on Earth, the destination was supposed to be Jump Zero, the outermost space station in the Sol System. Did William send him to some sort of clandestine company facility? Richter didn't think so. Kassa Fabrication wasn't in the biotics market. William must have been tricked or there was someone in Conatix who redirected him to another destination. No logos betrayed the owner of the facility, neither did any conversations he overheard reference a company or organization.

Two things were evident to Richter. Firstly, the scientists here didn't completely understand the activation phenomena behind biotics. They argued whenever they ran tests while he was recovering. He suspected he might be the first biotic they have attempted training. Secondly, he wasn't brought here exclusively as an experimental subject, though that might be a part of the reason. You don't need to physically condition and teach hand-to-hand combat to a lab rat. Best case, they were training biotic soldiers for the Alliance. Worst case, this was a rogue organization training human biotic assassins. Regardless, the training could be useful for the future during the reaper invasion. Perhaps that was the sole benefit of being taken here.

Nevada said he would be disposed if he failed to meet expectations. That sounded like a threat if he had ever heard one. Richter would continue to play along, only until he could find a way out of the facility and off planet. His access was limited in the facility and he didn't know where his omni-tool was kept, so even those tasks sounded insurmountable.

Nevada walked into the room to retrieve Richter now that his recovery was complete.

"Delta, we're going back to the laboratory," ordered the man in his usual terse tone.

The same group of lab-coat wearing scientists stood in the room, however this time he saw a child wearing the same uniform as himself. Another adult wearing the same clothes as Nevada stood next to the scientists.

_Must be another team, _he contemplated silently.

"Subject Epsilon, you may begin," one of the scientists instructed.

The girl might have been older than Richter, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Determining the age of children wasn't one of his strong suits. Her skin was darker than Richter's light brown. Her hair, tied back into a ponytail, was likewise dark brown. He would have guessed possibly middle-eastern descent.

Epsilon immediately started forming biotic energy and lifted the cube, larger than the one Richter was tested with, and brought it towards her. Her power warped the air considerably.

"Thirty kilograms," the scientist stated as another entered data into his holo-pad, "now set it back on the table without knocking it over."

The girl did just that, with considerable ease, he noted. His confidence took a hit watching the display. If there were several other biotics here and they performed at that level, that means Richter was well behind in terms of training.

"Good job Subject Epsilon, please take a seat," the scientist motioned towards where her trainer was standing.

Nevada shot Richter a glance. He guessed those eyes were a form of pity from the man, if he were even capable of that feeling.

"Don't screw this up again or I'm breaking your other hand," Nevada said with a flat voice before joining his colleague in the back. He was probably joking.

The scientists replaced the cube on the table with the smaller one, adding insult to injury.

"Subject Delta, your goal is to push the cube off the table. Once you have accumulated enough energy, release it towards the table. Do you need to be shown the gestures again?"

"No, I remember them."

"You may begin."

Richter repeated the gestures, his hand still stiff from the recent injury. The strange feeling of pressure built near his neck and he willed it to his hand. The air fluctuated and distorted with a dark purple hue. His brow creased hard as he focused it all towards the table. Without closing his fist and causing another catastrophe, he slightly moved his hand, trying to coax the release of energy. Nothing happened and he felt a cold sweat build near his forehead.

"Release the energy towards the table, Subject Delta," the scientist spoke loudly, while the other muttered amongst themselves.

Feeling the pressure rise, Richter thrust his hand forward. This time the energy obeyed and splashed outward. The distortion dissipated and he looked to see the results. The table and cube remained perfectly in place. From behind him he heard an unfamiliar laugh and saw that it was the trainer who accompanied Epsilon.

"You really struck out with this one, Nevada. Maybe they'll reassign you a new one if you ask," Epsilon's trainer joked, jabbing Nevada lightly with his elbow.

Nevada leaned on the wall with his arms crossed and didn't respond.

"Time to go girl, wouldn't want you picking up any bad habits," the man and his charge both walked out of the room. The girl shot Richter a quick glance before returning her eyes to the floor.

The scientists paid little attention to the charade and were observing data scrolling across their screens.

"Subject Delta, continue attempting to push the cube off the table. We will let you know when to stop," the scientist ordered.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Richter resumed the task. Even he still had some pride left.

That evening, Richter fell into his bed, an indescribable exhaustion draining his mind and body. He lost count on the number of attempts he made at moving the cube. He didn't manage to move the cube more than a few inches and even that was a rarity among the attempts. After several hours had passed, eventually the tired looking scientists ended the test. Nevada didn't speak a word to him after that, not of disappointment or encouragement. He didn't know to trick to control his biotics, but he saw a girl similar to his age manipulate objects with ease. Was it a difference in ability or talent? He groaned into his pillow.

He wanted to talk to Falle, she was a talented biotic. Additionally, he wanted to know his mother's condition. He couldn't find any device connected to the extranet regardless. Thinking that, he felt lonely for the first time since arriving here. The only people he saw regularly were the scientists and Nevada. Both were not conversationally inclined. The only other trainee he has met was Epsilon, and that was only for a few minutes.

Now tired and depressed, he switched off the light and stared into the blackness.

* * *

**Typhon Outpost, Proteus, Athens System, 10 February 2167 CE**

Richter bounced up and down on his feet, warming up his muscles and joints. His body gradually adjusted to the increased gravity of the planet. Unlike the first few weeks here, he could move without falling or tripping, a small victory in its own right. He rotated his arms and legs while waiting for Nevada. On his hands were cushioned training gloves, though they weren't meant to protect his opponent. They mostly helped soften Nevada's blows, which never felt light when they did the close-quarters combat training.

While biotics still gave him some trouble, Richter was confident in his ability to fight. So he tried to make this an enjoyable experience. Despite still being only a child, his growth was consistent and his mind still remembered techniques from his old life. His strikes might not bring an adult size man down, but he wouldn't lose if he fought in his weight class.

Nevada walked onto the matted floor wearing his usual neutral expression. He took a stance which was Richter's cue to start.

The boy crept forward, maintaining a high guard. He kept out of Nevada's reach, knowing a heavy punch would hit him if he got within range. Aiming for the man's forward knee, Richter lunged forward and sent a low kick in an attempt to break his stance. Richter's shin impacted into the man's large leg. His speed was incredible for his size, but the kick wasn't enough to cause the man to stagger.

Nevada reacted quickly and his torso rotated to deliver a heavy right handed hook. On instinct, Richter brought his guard down on his left side to receive the blow. A weight like a hammer hit him and sent him sprawling on the mat. Not pausing to let his body come to a stop, he rolled with the momentum. Nevada's foot landed hard where he just left. Completing the motion, Richter regained his posture and brought his guard back up.

Nevada came forward this time and sent a series of jabs towards him. The boy's tiny abdomen ducked and weaved left and right, the strikes only grazing him lightly. Watching the fists cut through the air, Richter ducked low and rotated around to the man's side, sending two strikes into Nevada's flank. Following through with the punches, Richter smashed his knee into the back of the man's knee, causing it to drop and hit the mat. Noticing movement in his periphery, Richter tried to dodge away. Unable to react in time, an elbow swung down to meet him, crushing hard into his shoulder. His body was sent hurtling like a meteor downwards, his face greeting the mat.

"Next time you try that, remember to get out of their striking range. You could get behind and try to damage the spine or back of the head. Both are vulnerable if you hit hard enough. A choke would've been a good option too, if you're quick enough." Nevada advised while Richter rolled into his back.

"Yes sir," Richter coughed in response. All spars ended with a new bruise and he suspected this one would be larger than usual.

"I'll give you twenty minutes and then we'll start practicing striking and grapples," Nevada grabbed a water bottle and took a seat on a nearby bench.

Richter pressed into his shoulder in an attempt to lessen the dull pain but it didn't help. He spent the next twenty minutes just laying on the mat with his eyes closed.

The lessons and practice were more kind to him. Richter repeated various techniques first by himself and then with the practice dummies. Nevada observed and corrected movements as he watched him practice. The entire block of instruction running all the way until lunch.

Richter showered off and changed his clothes before heading back to the mess facility.

Surprised by seeing two pairs of students and team trainers also eating, more than he usually saw at one time, he joined Nevada at one of the tables at the opposite side of the room. He recognized the two biotic children who wore expressionless faces. Epsilon and Beta, he recalled. Richter never talked to either of them and mostly saw them in passing. Beta was much smaller than himself and his eyes darted erratically. He was probably scared, Richter guessed.

Richter bit into a rather bland sandwich. If he didn't feel hungry nearly all the time, he doubted he would have finished eating. Grimacing, he forced down the meal.

"Place is busier than usual," he commented towards Nevada. The man raised an eyebrow in response.

"The teams have their own schedules. Just a coincidence," said Nevada.

"Ah, how many teams are here?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not," Richter truly believed it didn't and finished his food.

Richter followed his trainer to a new room, larger than the usual biotics testing chamber. Inside the usual cohort of scientists stood behind a transparent glass wall that observed the main room. Opposite of where they stood was another team. The child, Gamma, was a Caucasian girl with shoulder length blonde hair, a small nose and blue eyes. The trainers moved towards the observation room with the scientists.

"Subjects, the purpose of this test is to determine the upper limits of your abilities. You will each push the cube on the table towards each other. You may begin," the instructions boomed from the room's speakers.

Richter hesitated. Pushing the cube was challenging enough for Richter, trying to do it while another biotic pushes from the other side seemed impossible. While he hesitated, Gamma picked the cube up and shot it at him.

Spooling biotic energy as quickly as he could, Richter reached out and halted the cube just inches from his face. He struggled to push it away from him but the cube barely moved. Energy undulated around him like a chaotic tide. The object inched closer, Richter realized his own power wasn't enough to repel it.

He knew there were other ways to use biotics but they never taught him other techniques. Not knowing what he could use, he tried the first thing that came to mind. He raised his hands and focused another blast of energy, this time adding mass to the object. The cube slammed towards the floor and dented the metal plating. Gamma was startled and tried to regain control of the cube but it was now too heavy to lift.

"Stop," the voice from the speakers ordered.

Hearing that, Richter visibly relaxed. He was pleased that gamble worked on the first try, barely preventing the soccer ball sized weight from crushing his skull. Scientists briskly walked towards him, holo-pads in hand.

"Explain what you just did," one of the bald researchers commanded.

"I panicked and tried to make the box as heavy as I could?" Richter spun his words to be more fitting to his age.

The scientists argued amongst themselves in typical fashion. It was a known biotic ability, but they hadn't tested any of children yet. The group eventually agreed to table the discussion and continue the test.

"We will run the experiment again, this time do not add mass to the cube," the scientists reset the cube and retreated back behind the glass wall.

"Begin," commanded the speaker.

This time Richter couldn't afford Gamma getting the advantage. Shortening the biotic activation sequence, he recalled the familiar sensation and accumulated his biotic energy. He reached out and pushed the cube with everything he had. The cube burst forward towards Gamma but she stopped it without trouble. Unable to force his way through, the object drifted back towards Richter. He grunted and felt his control falter. The cube freed from his push and launched at him like a slingshot. Not able to resist, he threw his arms in front of his face and unleashed his remaining power. He braced himself for the impact, but it never came. When he peaked past his arms, he noticed the cube had fallen near his feat. A distinct translucent purple barrier flickered and dissipated. How he manifested a barrier, he could only attribute to blind luck.

_Another close call_, he thought. Her strength was really incredible. It was reassuring that he was able to successfully use two new abilities on the fly. If he hadn't, the damage he took would be close to life threatening.

Richter rubbed the back of his neck which felt like it burned from the over-usage of power. The scientists pulled him aside while Gamma was sent away. They connected multiple wires and monitors to his head and back, small static discharges caused him to squirm involuntarily. Making note of all the data read-outs, they eventually released Richter.

"We're done here, follow me Delta," Nevada ordered.

As they walked down the hall, Nevada stopped suddenly and thrust him into the wall. His eyes pierced into his, their noses almost touching.

"Don't pull something like that again," he said harsh whisper, barely audible but the anger hit him harder than the impact into the wall. "Don't give those sick bastards more ideas."

Nevada released him and backed away slightly.

"Just do as you're told," he pointed a finger at him, "and you might just survive this."

"Yes sir," he acknowledged, realizing he might have gone too far on the last test.

"We'll see. Tomorrow, we start your marksmanship training."

* * *

_A/N: __In a testament of how poor I am at foreshadowing, many of you have already correctly guessed that Richter has been captured by a rather nefarious organization. As always, I appreciate any feedback. I may work on revisions once I feel we've hit a good point in the story, so everything helps. I'm still a very amateur fiction writer and I'm working to improve as best I can.  
_

_I'll try to publish the next chapter before the New Year. The prewriting is almost complete and it just needs some revision before it's ready. _


	6. The First Mission

**Typhon Outpost, Proteus, Athens System, 07 August 2169 CE**

"Doctor Chen, how do you assess the progress of the Argonaut Project?" The hollow silhouette spoke in a gritty tone. Wisps of smoke trailed from the cigarette he held in his hand. His blue eyes the only light piercing the shadows.

"We're almost ready to move forward with phase three. We can increase the biotic potential of subjects that express the necessary adaptation, regardless of how strongly they manifest it. I've included the data in the report," Chen briefed his sponsor.

The silhouette took a long draw from his cigarette and breathed out slowly.

"What's preventing you from moving to the next phase?" He inquired, tapping the smoldering edge of the cigarette against a small dish.

"I need more test subjects. I can't conduct new experiments using the four remaining subjects. They're incomplete but applying the new process would just kill them. We've tried. For the next generation implants, I need fresh biotically inclined children." Chen said matter-of-factly.

"Agent Colorado, are the Argonauts undergoing your training field-ready?" Upon being addressed, Colorado walked towards the display next to Chen.

"As ready as any teenagers who haven't seen real combat can be," he said without his characteristic accent.

"You know better than most. There's no substitute for war," the silhouette swiveled his chair and faced his back towards the screen. "And that's what we're fighting. A war."

"That's the truth," agreed Colorado.

"I want you to take them with your team in the next operation," the man pressed a button, cascading images and data files expanded to the borders of the display, "any objections?"

"Three of Chen's monsters are dangerously powerful, but they're only average when it comes to actual soldiering. Beta is skittish like a deer. Gamma and Epsilon combined don't weigh more than I do. They 'll survive a direct action op, sure. I'm more concerned about the fourth," Colorado paused and looked at Chen.

"Subject Delta?" The silhouette moved his hand to an off-screen console. "Says here your team assesses him low for biotic raw strength, but high in everything else."

"No normal twelve year old picks up a rifle for the first time and shoots like he did. He's starting to give Nevada a run for his money in their training spars. The boy hasn't even turned fifteen yet," Colorado felt like he was making an argument against himself, "Somethings off with him. He's got history with an asari to boot. I don't think he's someone we can use."

"Agent, that's where you're wrong. There's no one we can't use to serve Cerberus," The Illusive Man made a small wave with the back of his hand and cut the feed.

* * *

The Command Information Center of Typhon Outpost was a smaller room, dimly lit except for the multiple monitors and displays, whose glow reflected off the faces of multiple officers and staff. While the lower levels of the outpost were sparsely decorated, the doors in this room were adorned with a familiar white and orange emblem. An elongated white hexagon paired with two thick orange lines on the side, the symbol of Cerberus. Richter might have been shocked if it was three years ago, but the after three years, it felt like the logical conclusion. All this did was act as confirmation for that assumption.

In the center, all four teams sat around a table looking over a suspended holo-projection. The scaled down model of a two kilometer long space station slowly spun in place. The station's main body was shaped like a wide cylinder with two long spires protruding at each end.

Each of the four teenagers sat next to their trainer except for Gamma's. Her trainer, Colorado, had yet to arrive. Aside from Richter, the young biotics seemed more than awe of the device than the information displayed on the accompanying monitor. This was the first time any of them were allowed in the room. Usually they were restricted to the lower floors of the outpost.

"Gagarin Station..." Richter said mostly to himself as he examined the readout. That was his original destination over three years ago. A school he never got to attend.

"It's located on the outermost edge of our home system," informed Nevada, overhearing him speak.

"I remember reading about it," Richter said in a half-lie. The dots started to connected in his head. Why they were all sitting in the CIC. Why this projection was on the table. Why Cerberus would be interested in this station. His gut wrenched.

Across the table, Epsilon's trainer Utah, leaned over to whisper into Wyoming's ear. Richter couldn't hear what was said, but after hearing it, Wyoming looked at him and smirked.

He knew these two intimately from the mock battles they conducted every week. Neither held much love for him. He felt fortunate he was paired with Nevada, who maintained a professional, if not stand-offish, attitude.

Feeling someone's stare, Richter glanced toward Epsilon who's attention lingered before she pulled her eyes away. He smiled at her briefly. She had grown prettier, but he couldn't help feeling like she was still a child, even if physically they were similar in age. Her high cheek bones and long nose gave her face an angular profile. In a few years, Richter felt like she would be very popular.

"Don't even think about it kid," his trainer spoke low enough for only him to hear.

Not wanting to correct his assumption, Richter just smiled and subtly shook his head.

"We're getting started," Colorado said from behind them, walking up to the holo-projection.

"A month from now, we will be conducting a rescue mission on Gagarin Station. There are two hundred and eleven children currently being held on the station. Rogue scientists employed by the Alliance and their turian partners conduct inhumane experiments on the children, often beating and starving them for entertainment," Colorado played a security recording of an intimidating looking turian kicking one of the children who fell to the ground. Small gasps from the trainees could be heard from across the table.

Seeing through the facade, Richter couldn't help but suppress a grin. He knew that the conditions were rough on the station, but not to the degree that Colorado was playing it up to be. If anything, the BAaT program would be deactivated, given a year or two.

"We will travel using a disguised commercial frigate and take a shuttle to dock with the station. Our access codes will be official, so station security will not be on high alert when we land," The diagram zoomed onto one of the docking platforms with a small shuttle moving toward it. "Once we dock, it'll be just the eight of us doing the rescue. For this operation, teams will act organically. Utah and Epsilon will secure the docking site. Nevada and Delta will neutralize the security and communication's system. Myself, Gamma, Wyoming and Beta will conduct the main assault and rescue."

Red lines extended through the holo-projection as he spoke. Routes through the station and the key locations were all highlighted.

"Ideally, we want to execute this all without the station going to full alert. If Nevada's team shuts down their communications network, there will be no problem. However, if they fail, we'll have about twenty minutes from when the alert sounds to when Alliance Navy ships sortie. In that scenario, we will evacuate as many children as we can and redock with the frigate."

The plan seemed simple enough, but Richter felt like Colorado omitting critical information.

"Resistance will be light. The station's security is armed with pistols and non-lethal stun batons. They have standard Avenger series rifles however the release authority is the head of the station. That delays their deployment time significantly. Additionally, the turian mercenaries are skilled fighters and talented biotics. We don't know if they will assist the security forces, however they are primary targets. Kill or capture." Colorado emphasized the last part of his speech.

Concerned looks crossed the faces of his peers. Beta uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

"It's your first mission, but don't worry, you're trained better than most Alliance marines. Obey all orders your team trainer and the operation will be successful," reassured Colorado, relieving some of their anxiety.

"We'll be using the battle simulation room on the bottom level. Report there at thirteen-hundred. There are lockers with the gear you will be using for the mission. Your trainers will instruct you how to fit and wear it." After giving out the last guidance, Colorado turned to leave. Gamma hopped up and followed his heels.

Cerberus attacking Gagarin Station was not an event he remembered happening in Mass Effect. Did he miss something? Effectively fifteen years have passed since his old life, he might have forgotten. Free will could also be at work. He couldn't even be sure the future would perfectly match the game's events.

Richter burned the station's blueprint into his mind, memorizing the route and room layouts. His team's job seemed the least likely to run into complications and enemy resistance. This seemed like his best opportunity to say goodbye to Cerberus and find asylum with the Alliance. If he could sabotage the mission and ensure the alert sounds, ditching Nevada in the process, he could hide on the station until the Alliance arrives.

"Let's go," Nevada said. A month was his deadline to devise a plan to sabotage the mission and escape his trainer. The latter felt the more difficult of the two.

* * *

Richter pressed his palm on the locker's scanner marked with his name. A satisfying hiss confirmed his access and the door slide upwards. A stack of gray armor pieces laid on top of a thick black uniform. He pulled out the uniform, it felt slightly stiff, probably some type of kinetic padding. The armor pieces consisted of a vest, shielding unit, and several individual plates. The vest was clearly marked with the Cerberus symbol on the left breast. The entire set was unlike the normal combat hardsuits used by the military, more lightweight and compact. He doubted they manufactured hardsuits their size. Richter was now tall enough to stand eye to eye with his stout trainer but the others still had room to grow.

Nevada joined him wearing a more standard set of armor, helmet under his arm.

"Throw on the suit and I'll help you with the armor pieces," Nevada said opening up a separate locker.

Richter stripped down and threw on the form-fitting suit. His trainer methodically connected the armor to his arms and legs. Finally, Richter was handed a gray helmet meant to completely cover the face and head. Where eyes should be, an angled black visor reflected the ceiling's lights at him. With both hands, he lowered the helmet over his head. Immediately, the internal interface and targeting assist lit up. A small cursor followed his eye movement across the screen.

"Here, connect the pistol to the hard point on your right side." Nevada handed him a pistol that was retracted into its inactive mode. It was one of the Cerberus produced Harpy pistols, compact but heavy.

Richter tested his flexibility, rotating his arms and legs in several different directions. It felt good. The girls and Beta stepped out of the elevator and paused seeing him in the full suit. His attempt to greet them was muffled by the helmet. Nevada pressed a finger into a switch at the back of his head, causing the frontal plate to slide upwards, revealing his face.

"Just me," Richter said, pressed the same spot and let the helmet reseal. The others opened their lockers, finding similar sets inside. Their eyes sparkled as they inspected the armor. Seeing them undress, he took that as his cue to enter the battle simulations room.

The room was more akin to a warehouse. It was expansive, with excess configurable walls and third generation LOKI mechs stacked against the sides of the room. A mock multistory structure stood at the center.

"The layout matches the station's. Only the section we'll be hitting though," Nevada said from behind.

Richter found the helmet's speaker function with his eyes and toggled the option.

"We're disabling the security and communications systems, right? Bet they have countermeasures in place," Richter wanted to know the details.

"I've got the key," Nevada ignited his omni-tool and punched in a few commands. "Bypassing firewalls and security systems is my specialty. That's why we were chosen."

"And if you go down?"

"I won't."

"Teach me. I can help," he requested. Richter didn't know the first thing about hacking security systems, but if Nevada taught him, he might be able to hack into Typhon's mainframe.

"I'll think about it," Nevada told him.

"Yes sir."

The teams joined them in the room shortly after. In the combat suits, his peers appeared more intimidating than usual, despite their smaller sizes.

"Mission starts at the docking bay. We'll run through the entire mission, through disabling the security to evacuation of the hostages. We have one month, we'll do rehearsals until we have it perfected," Colorado announced.

All teams gathered into the mock shuttle. Nearest the doors, Nevada and Richter staged to sprint once the shuttle completed docking. The light went green and immediately the two burst through the door.

Two LOKIs stood in the main docking bay, representing the docking crew. Without firing, Nevada bore down on the first mech. His hand grabbed its face and he shoved it hard into the floor, disabling it. Richter went for the second. He kept his body low as rushed forward. When he was a meter away, he leapt at the mech, bringing his knee hard into its head.

"Delta, keep up!" He yelled, continuing down the route with increasing speed.

Richter pumped his legs hard following behind him. The corridor twisted ahead of them, but they didn't encounter any other mechs until they reached the security office. Nevada started cracking the door's encryption.

"Don't look at me, cover the rear!" his eyes didn't leave his omni-tool as he worked quickly.

Richter turned heel and brought his pistol up, extending it to its active configuration. Two LOKIs turned the corner towards the office. The mechs raised their pistols toward him. Richter raised his hand and formed a biotic barrier between them.

"We got two," he called out, simultaneously fired into the mechs, rounds punching through their chassis'. The closest mech didn't go down and sent several real rounds into his barrier. He didn't expect the LOKIs to be armed with live weapons. The second mech deactivated after another several rounds.

_You've got to be kidding me_, he thought. Nevada should have informed him of the live training scenario.

Red lights flashed and an alarm blared, signaling the station going into alert.

"_Twenty minutes,"_ Colorado announced over the internal comm-link.

Nevada finished the hack and rushed into the security room. Multiple bursts from an assault rifle concluded after several moments. Advancing his position, Richter heard the steps of several mechs advancing down the hall.

"More coming!" he shouted and stopped short of the intersection. Richter leaned around the corner and saw a dozen synthetics advancing forward.

He swore under his breath and concentrated biotic energy towards his hand. Turning the corner, he lashed out. The concentrated energy traveled like a shockwave down the hall and slammed into the leading mech. The synthetic crashed backward and its lights flickered out but the others in the group weren't affected. He was too weak to do any damage at that distance. The other biotics could have sent the entire group flying. Richter witnessed their power first hand.

Firing into the group as fast as could, several rounds ripped through the hall, pinging off the mechs and digging into the walls and floor. The weapon kept up with his manic trigger squeezes, however the heat gauge built just as quickly. His pistol locked up and its fins kicked to release excess heat. The weapon's exhaust shimmered in the air. A hail of fire forced him back, the rounds pelting his barrier to its collapse.

A large hand grabbed his collar from behind and yanked him down. Nevada replaced him at the corner and sprayed his rifle at advancing group.

"_Beta's down. Utah, come retrieve him,"_ Colorado's voice erupting into his helmet.

"_We're done over here. We'll come pick him up,"_ Nevada replied.

"Lock onto Beta's beacon," ordered Nevada. His rifle kept at the ready and he scanned the intersection. Seeing it clear of any additional mechs, he started retracing back down the route.

They stepped deliberately, Nevada spearheading their movement. Inside his visor, his position indicator blinked as they closed onto the four beacons of the assault team. Gunfire echoed across the structure.

"Beta is just up ahead," Nevada pointed forward, "Delta, you'll carry him back to the docking bay and hand him off to Utah's team. On my signal."

Nevada held out a fist and moved behind low cover.

"Now!" Nevada fired into a small team of mechs maneuvering behind the assault team.

Using his radar, Richter sprinted to Beta's location. Enemy fire deflected off his shield and rounds trailed behind him. Not slowing, he dove behind cover and land at Beta's feet. The biotic was pressing his hands over his leg, dark red blood flowing through his glove's fingers. Muffled whimpers matched the child's trembling chest. A deep gouge on the leg armor led to the bullet's penetration. The armor deflected the round and prevented a severe wound.

"Calm down, you'll be okay," Richter comforted the boy.

"_Nevada, do you have medigel? He's bleeding on his leg." _He restricted his communication to only his trainer.

"_Catch." _From across the room, Nevada launched the small tube into the air. Richter _pulled_ the object into his hands, barely thinking about action. Richter pried Beta's hands out of the way and pressed the applicator into the wound. Medicated foam spilled out, covering his hands and the leg.

"Alright, I'm carrying you back to the shuttle. Don't squirm," Richter lowered the wounded child's mass to a mere fraction of his actual weight. Hoisting him up, he settled the child across his shoulders and started jogging back to the docking bay.

Mech wreckages lined the route, but he stepped lightly around them. Nearing the shuttle bay, he saw Epsilon alight with biotic power. Her hands thrust out to Richter, sending out two large purple spheres flying at him. Despite himself, he flinched and generated the strongest barrier he could. The waves of energy passed harmlessly around him, landing on two mechs behind him. Synthetic jointed creaked and snapped, the metal skeletons collapsed as if being crushed by a hydraulic press.

"Thanks," he exhaled as his panic dissipated, lowering Beta to the ground.

"Y-you're welcome," Epsilon's quiet voice barely making it to his ears.

"_Times almost up, retrograding to the shuttle," _informed Colorado.

"Epsilon, watch for targets. Delta, drag him into the shuttle," Utah barked from the side.

Richter leaned down and grabbed Beta's arm, bringing it behind his neck.

"You took that shot like a champ," Richter said as he walked with the kid. Not informing them that they be practicing against enemy with live rounds was absolutely absurd. Cerberus was either confident they wouldn't get severely injured, or they didn't value their lives very much. Richter's guess didn't inspire confidence.

After a minute, the rest of the team joined them on the shuttle. Colorado activated his omni-tool and deactivated the siren and red alert lights.

"Twenty-two minutes. Too slow. We will need to move quicker. Preventing the alert is critical. Delta, that was your fuck-up cowboy. Don't shoot unless you are absolutely sure you need to. Biotics or CQC, until we shut down comms and disable the security system," he finally turned his attention towards the wounded teenager. "Beta, I hope you learned the importance of keeping your gat'damn head down and behind cover."

Colorado removed his helmet and ran his fingers across the bridge of his nose.

"Hand over your pistols and go take off your armor. We're done for the day. One of y'all go take him to the medbay to get checked out," Colorado said with mild irritation.

* * *

Richter and the other biotics opened their lockers, methodically stripping off their armor and placing it inside. Gamma and Epsilon didn't show any modesty, their soft skin clearly visible. His body reacted despite what he was thinking. Distracting himself, he helped Beta remove his armor. Discomfort was clear in his round eyes. Taking off the lower combat suit caused him yelp. The two girls to jumped at the sudden sound. Soft, inflamed flesh was coated with dried blood. It wasn't a severe wound.

"Does it hurt?" Gamma asked, seeing the fresh wound.

"Not really," the boy told her. Richter smirked at witnessing the stereotypical behavior.

"Looks like it does," she squinted her eyes, leaning in closer for a look.

"I'm taking him to the medbay if you two want to come," Richter offered. It wasn't often they were together unsupervised. If he could learn more about them, he might be able to get them to cooperate in escaping Cerberus. However, trusting children who spent so many years under the guidance of Cerberus agents was not something he was willing to risk.

"I'll come," Epsilon said a little too eagerly, hurriedly tying her hair back into a ponytail.

"Sure," Gamma agreed.

As a group, they made the short trip from the elevator to the medical bay. One of the doctors was on standby expecting Beta's arrival, taking the boy into the back room.

"So, where are you two from?" Richter asked breaking the silence.

"I... used to live in Montreal," Epsilon managed to say. She had a habit of looking downwards when she spoke.

"Did you have any brothers or sisters?"

"The orphanage had other kids that I lived with," Epsilon said quietly. That made sense, probably made it easy for Cerberus to acquire her.

"How about you, Gamma?" He changed targets, not wanting to step on an emotional minefield.

She crossed her arms and looked him in the eyes.

"What about me?" She said clearly annoyed.

"Well, where did you live?" He wasn't sure what she was upset about.

"Who cares. I'm never going back. My parents couldn't wait to get rid of me," Gamma turned away from him.

_Never mind stepping onto an emotional minefield. I ran straight into one, _Richter sighed.

It was likely Beta also had a similarly tragic origin. Being confined here without normal interactions probably damaged them psychologically. Richter was simply an anomaly because he could rely on his past life, but these children haven't had a normal education. Undoing the damage caused by Cerberus might be impossible for him.

Beta returned, limping on his own. The damage wasn't serious enough where he would be unable to continue training. Richter suggested they all grab dinner together. Trying to build a team was a good start, he figured.

* * *

**MSV Ironside, Sol System, 16 September 2169 CE**

The MSV Ironside was a refurbished Alliance midsized frigate legally purchased by a Cerberus-fronted company. Originally, the main armaments were removed, leaving just the defensive GARDIAN lasers operational, however the organization's engineers outfitted the starship with a prototype mass accelerator cannon . The crew was largely former navy corpsmen hired by Cerberus to operate the vessel. Attached to the belly of the starship was a shuttle containing eight agents, waiting impatiently for the signal to detach.

Richter held on to a bar above the shuttle's door for balance, squeezing it a little too tightly. His heel tapped the ground furiously, as if trying to maintain a beat. Nevada stood opposite of him, obviously eavesdropping on the Ironside's transmissions with Gagarin Station. The others sat in the chairs, not requiring the same lead his team would.

"Looks like we're good, detaching now," Nevada gave a lopsided smile and clicked his helmet on, "Keep calm, eyes open and don't fall behind."

"Understood," Richter was nervous, but probably not for the reasons Nevada suspected.

Several minutes passed and their shuttle slowed to docking speeds. Richter patted the pistol on his leg for his own mental comfort. Hissing signaled the end of the docking procedure. He decreased his own mass, a technique he tested during the practice runs. It allowed him to sprint at speeds unreachable under normal gravity. Fires of biotic energy swirled about him. His heart beat pumped in his ears. Time felt slowed as he waited for the door to swing open. The door hatch withdrew and like the wind, they blew through the shuttle doors.

Richter launched himself after Nevada but he stumbled head first in the air. The station's low gravity and his lowered mass meant his sprint sent him airborne. His body rotated midair, his feet facing toward the ceiling. As he drifted to the ground, he pushed his palm onto the floor, like a twisting cartwheel, and brought his feet back down. The maneuver righted his orientation and he cut off his biotics. Momentum carried him back to pace, but the gymnastics cost him valuable time.

Nevada bore down on the first dock worker, the man's skull flattened against the hard floor. There were more than two in the room, but they were still shocked from two armored personnel attacking them.

Richter quickly closed the distance with the second worker. The man's eyes widen as he leapt, knee first, into the innocent worker's face. Bones cracked and the man's facial profile collapsed with the hit. Feeling the damage, his stomach lurched. These people weren't mechs and Richter didn't want to kill any of them, especially if he was going to seek refuge here. But he couldn't play his hand yet, so he whispered a silent apology and vaulted after the next worker.

The next dock worker saw his approach and threw his arms in front of his face, while a terror filled scream escaped his mouth. Richter dashed below the man's raised arms, close into his torso. His augmented muscles, products of genetic manipulation, tensed like thick rope around his body. Like a depressed coil, he released the pressure and viciously uppercut into the man's jaw. Perhaps due to the low gravity, the man's feet left the ground and his body crashed into the floor.

"Delta, that's all of them" Nevada stood over another an unmoving body. "Move!"

"_Dock clear. Four rabbits. Heading to next objective," _Nevada said in a dead sprint.

Their pace was blistering, pushing him to his limits. He was breathing hard under his mask from the sustained peak exertion. The halls were quiet and showed no additional activity. Their infiltration was perfectly timed to be during the station's largely inactive fourth shift. Records showed that the biotic students would be awake but still in their quarters. However that assumption was now dead in the water. Following the intimately familiar route, they were only two turns away from their goal before hitting an unexpected obstacle. Nevada skid to a halt, his armored boots grinding against the floor.

"Turians," he growled. Blocking their path stood around twenty human children with two turians at the very back of the group. Nevada's sudden stop to prevent barreling into the group drew their attention.

"Now look at this, you two don't look like you belong," an armored turian's flanged voice echoed against the walls.

"Get behind me, quickly children," the shorter turian, its smaller crest identifying her as a female, ushered the group behind her. Richter raised an eyebrow at that, he didn't expect turians to be protective of humans. By all accounts, these were mercenaries with no attachments to the humans they trained. The children either seem confused or scared and shuffled behind them into another room.

"_We've hit two snakes and some mice, get ready for alert," _Nevada spat into the radio and pulled his rifle off the hard-point on his back.

"It's been years since I've been able to kill a human. I'm going to enjoy this," the armored one taunted.

"Delta, they're not armed. You take the small one," Nevada sent a burst of accurate fire into its chest, causing its shield to flare to life.

Richter unholstered his pistol but he hesitated. This could be his chance. If he turned on Nevada and surrendered, it might work. His contemplation cost him. A sledge hammer of force hit him square in his chest, launching him skyward. Spooling biotic energy, he braced himself and generated a _pulling_ force below him. Both his feet and one hand slid against the floor, absorbing the excess momentum.

The female turian closed distance, its long predator-like legs covering considerable ground with each stride. She launched a frontal kick aimed at his chest. He spun, barely dodging the blow. Utilizing the centrifugal force, he completed the rotation and sent a backhand toward the extended leg. Deflected by his blow, her leg landed to her side. Using that leg as a pivot, she twisted and launched a back kick with the opposite leg. Unable to block the blow, her heel smashed into his helmet and sent him to the ground. The biotically enhanced force crushed the helmet and the redundant cameras ceased functioning. Ripping off his helmet, he rose and tossed it the side.

Blood matted the brown hair on the side of his head, dripping slowly down his neck. The female turian seemed surprised and didn't resume her attack.

"Why are you here child?" She asked, her voice soft but still carried the characteristic gravely quality.

Should he tell her? Ask for protection? He looked for Nevada, but the fighting over there had stopped. He was on his back without his rifle, immobile. The armored turian, now armed with Nevada's rifle, pointed it at the downed man.

"Vyrnnus, don't kill him. We need to find out what they're after," the female demanded, her head turned to address the other.

"We only need one of them for that," the turian called Vyrnnus raised the rifle to his shoulder and aimed down the sights.

Before he realized what he was doing, Richter erected a barrier around Nevada. His amplifier burned in his neck as it absorbed the barrage of fire. He dashed past the female turian and fired at Vyrnnus. The pistol rounds didn't penetrate its shield but caused him to change his target to Richter. Bullets bounced into his shield, but he couldn't risk stopping. He hurled himself at the turian as his shield flickered out, concentrating biotic force in his fist. Repeating a movement he only did once before, he closed his fist and slammed it into its face.

An explosion of chaotic energy rippled from the core of his hand. Vyrnnus howled as his face plate cracked. His mandibles bended outwards unnaturally, tearing painfully from his face. Richter yelled, replacing the pain with anger, as his fist turned into tattered shreds. The turian stopped convulsing and fell backward, taking Richter to the ground with him. Retrieving the rifle from the turian's dead hands, Richter held it at his hip with his good hand. His destroyed hand hung useless at his side.

He swung the rifle towards the female, who still remained in a combat stance, watching. Keeping his eyes on her, he bit the finger of his glove and pulled it off. Blood that was pooling inside poured like a small red waterfall. He needed to tourniquet it soon. To make matters worse, a station-wide alarm blared.

"What? If you want to kill me, go ahead and try. Maybe you could kill me, but my bets on station security getting here first," she placed her hands on her wide boney hips.

"Not going to avenge that one?" Richter grunted, tilting his head towards the corpse.

"Vyrnnus should have listened. We weren't friends," she seemed unafraid. Richter probably couldn't win if she decided to attack.

"I'm taking my partner and leaving," his breathing was shallow and labored. He needed to hurry and couldn't call for help without his helmet. Even if he surrendered now, he couldn't play the innocence card any longer.

"Answer one question first," her voice was firm, "who owns you?"

"Cerberus," he didn't care if she knew. Cerberus would probably claim responsibility anyway. He _lifted_ Nevada's unconscious mass and pushed him as one might a shopping cart. He didn't turn his back to the turian until she was no longer in sight. His vision was blurry, blood seeped into his left eye. Attaching the assault rifle to the hardpoint on his back, he fumbled his hand into the man's pouches until he found a medigel applicator. Taking a calming breath, he pressed it hard into the strips of skin and flesh on his injured hand. That problem temporary solved, he needed Nevada to wake up and radio the others. He shook him roughly, but he remained still.

_Omni-tool, that's right, _he thought. Searching again, he located the device's releasing clamp and flipped it. Bracing it against his thigh, he slid it on and powered the device. Switching the input to audio commands only, he brought his wrist close to his face.

"Main, hardsuit, interface, radar," he commanded as he continued his way down the route. An orange projection sprung from the device, beacons lighting up on the station's schematics. Thankfully they hadn't left the station yet, the assault force still moved in the student dormitories.

"Back, comm-link, all," he verbalized the additional commands and opened up the radio. Chatter immediately resonated from the device.

"_We hit contact at the shuttle bay, expect resistance during withdrawal," _said Utah.

"_We've got several mice and three snakes, coming back to you. Wyoming, cover the rear," _Colorado barked over the net.

"_This is Delta, we're moving back down the route. Nevada is down," _he replied over the net.

"_Hurry your ass up. If you don't make it to the shuttlebay in five, we're leaving you here." _

Richter quickened his pace as best he could, nearing the assault team's location. Volleys of fire exchanged between the assault team and an ever-growing group of station security. Not seeing Gamma, he checked the radar and saw her beacon moving to the shuttle.

Two massive singularities manifested in the air. Looking for the source, he heard Beta screaming. His standing form cloaked in biotic energy. Both of his arms extended outward towards the blackened masses. Red stains spotted his uniform.

"Beta! Stop!" Wyoming yelled as he was being pulled toward the large gravity wells.

Beta couldn't hear him or was ignoring him. Furniture, small objects and several of the security staff floated into the masses. The men were ruthlessly shot by Colorado as they remained suspended midair.

An explosion rocked the ground and the singularities dissipated from the air. Objects and bodies fell like rain back to the ground. Smoke rose from the decapitated body of Beta. Richter froze and felt goosebumps crawl up his face like an army of ants. He scanned for mines, grenades or other explosives, but he couldn't find any.

A light blinked on the omni-tool, he pulled up the alert.

_Beta countermeasure activated_.

Nothing else accompanied the message. Nothing else needed to. He wanted to kick himself, thinking he could just walk away and not face any resistance. Cerberus must have implanted explosives during the surgery in case one of them went rogue.

Bastards.

He looked at the man he saved, someone he trusted to some extent. Half of him regretted not letting the turian kill him, the other half wanted to kill him right now and blame it on the enemy.

No, that wouldn't help, he realized. Maybe he could this rescue to his advantage, prove his loyalty to Cerberus, and convince them to remove the explosives. Pushing the suspended body of Nevada, he hurried to the shuttle bay.

Corpses lined the route, strangely none of them had any bullet wounds. The work of Gamma on her way back, he suspected. A clear route was good, he was not in the condition to fight anyone.

"_Coming in hot, rabbits pursuing. Ready launch," _Colorado spoke.

Passing Epsilon and Utah, he entered the shuttle. It was packed, numerous scared looking children and teenagers clustered near back. Some were crying and the older ones were trying to calm them. On the opposite end of the shuttle were three bloodied turian forms and Gamma. He lowered Nevada to the ground near her.

"Guessing things didn't go as planned," Gamma's helmet was retracted back as she gulped down a calorie-rich energy drink.

"Beta's dead," he told her as he fell into the seat next to her.

"Happens," if she felt anything, she didn't show it.

"It wasn't the enemy that killed him," he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Breathing was taking too much effort. The local anesthetic was wearing off and small movement sent jolts of pain up his arm. He felt hands tie something tight around his elbow.

"Doesn't look good," She said softly. For his hand or their situation, he wanted to ask.

A storm of boots stomping into the shuttle preceded the metal on metal clash of the closing shuttle door. Epsilon took the seat next to him. The internal compensators only cushioned the sudden acceleration of the shuttle, causing a pile of children to roll across the floor. Unable to cope with the force, he leaned into Epsilon, causing her to slightly jump.

"Are you okay?" Her worried voice said quickly. "What happened?"

"I'll survive," Richter didn't have the energy to recount the fight.

"Did Beta also get hurt? I don't see him anywhere," her helmet turned left and right, scanning the main cabin.

"He's dead, Epsilon," he bluntly told her. She went quiet for several moments.

"H-how..." she started sobbing quietly. He felt her chest quake against his side.

She might be the most normal one out of them all, Richter thought. He was more shocked learning about the implanted explosives leashing them to Cerberus, than one of his comrades getting killed. Beta didn't deserve his fate.

Colorado returned from the cockpit and walked towards the three biotics. Scars on the armor indicated the assault team also hit heavy resistance.

"Delta, where's your helmet?" Colorado asked, tossing a rebreather at him.

"It broke during the fight with the turians," he pointed to the gash on his head.

"Use that," he motioned to the rebreather. "We'll debrief when we arrive. I'll call up the medic to look at the hand and assess Nevada."

Richter bit onto the mouthpiece and Gamma slid her face plate back down seeing smoke fill the cabin. One by one, the children fell asleep after inhaling in the gas. Cerberus now had over forty biotic children to turn into weapons. They were supposed to be released when BAaT discontinued operation, now they'll be slaves to Cerberus like he was. Richter lost count of how many sins he had committed at this point. Smoke cleared the cabin and he realized he would have to add another sin to the list. He recognized one of the faces in the group. It was younger than he remembered but the squared jaw and black hair was evidence enough.

Kaidan Alenko was laying no less than two meters from his feet.

* * *

_A/N: Happy New Years to all my readers. As always, appreciate the PMs and words of encouragement. Pace may slow down due to work and other responsibilities.  
_


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